


Peripheral Vision

by Chiclet



Category: City of Heroes
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 00:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 53,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13353078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiclet/pseuds/Chiclet
Summary: Fiction for Aura King/Mercy Strike, my kheldian character in City of Heroes, who was a part-time golden retriever or something.





	1. Backstory

Hello. Hi. I'm Aura King.  

Before we get too far into this, yes, it's a dumb name. Auuuura. Aurrrrra. I sound like a brand name for hickory smoked sausages or fudge cookies or whatever. You know, whenever I hear some girl with a perfectly good name like Lisa or Michelle or Emily complaining? I just want to scream. I mean, was it too much to ask that I end up with something normal instead of a name that sounds like a dog barfing? 

It could have been worse, I guess. You don't really want to know what my mom named the cats. 

We live... okay, scratch that. I'm at St. Joseph's now and will be for a while but my mom still lives in King's Row, up on the west side in a trailer park. It's kind of small but I like it well enough and Mr. Grabens always makes sure that the patch of grass that lines our 'road' is nice and tidy.  It seems sort of a waste of time to me but mom says that good things always come back to you, no matter what. It might take some time but it comes back - and I believe that because bad stuff comes back pretty much instantly. So if it makes him happy to go up and down the row once a week with the hand mower, I suppose that's okay. 

You'll probably like my mom, almost everybody does. She's always got a kerchief around her head and beads in her hair and she'll do tarot readings just to find out when's a good day to make pot roast. For the record it usually turns out to be Thursdays. I love her lots but she about drives me crazy. Couldn't we just order pizza without having to see if the vibrations are in harmony with concept? 

Anyways, she runs a little shop near the train station, selling things to the wanna-be magic types and the tourists that took a wrong turn on the way to see Atlas. I help out sometimes which is why my homework sometimes smell weird, what with all the incense. None of it is real magic of course. She's all into crystals and healing vibes and cleansing your chakras and from what I've seen, that's not really  _ real _ magic. Not the kind that gets you a bound familiar or conjures a lot of money or makes somebody love you. 

Although that's kind of what got me in this mess. Not the demon familiar, but.... okay, hang on, maybe I'd better explain. 

See, there's this guy in my school. Well, my old school now. His name's Jason but everybody calls him Street, which is his last name. No, I have no idea why, they just do. Anyways, he's really cool. He's got dark curly hair and the biggest smile and he can do back flips just like that. I mean, he just stands there and then suddenly he's done a back flip. It's so great. I really wish he'd do that to impress me instead of Cheryl, who's the girl he's going out with. 

Anyways, that's why I got in trouble and had to switch schools midway through term. Not the back flip part. There was this dance, okay? And I... just really wanted Street to notice me. I mean, he kissed me once, right? So it was a game but still, that had to mean he liked me a little bit. So I thought if maybe I was just a little bit prettier... you know, that my hair was blonder and my eyes blue instead of this murky hazel, maybe he'd ask me to dance. And you know, maybe kiss me again. 

Don't look at me like that. I bet you've done dumb stuff too. 

Now, most of my mom's stuff is just for the tourists and the dumb bunnies that believe they can ward off evil spirits by waving a luck charm in its face. But in the back, under glass, are some of the consecrated bibles and relic scrolls and stuff that she doesn't want people touching because it'll mess up the vibe. But under a black velvet cover to smother the bad mojo, she's also got some spell books. Not big ones, not the kind that summon demons or open portals to bad places because my mom wouldn't deal with that stuff. Her karma would probably fall off a cliff if she even tried. But she does have... well, I guess you'd call them the Dick And Jane spellbooks. I guess even mages gotta start somewhere, right? 

So uh.. yeah. I swiped one when she was busy in the front and I smuggled it home in my backpack under my math homework. Don't look at me like that! I was going to do a lot of chakra balancing and all my chores on time for at least a week so I'd be vibrationally centered again. Besides, it's not like I stole it or anything; I was going to put it right back the next day and my mom would never even know it was gone. 

Anyways, before the dance, I pushed all my stuff against the walls and chalked out a ward on the carpet, figuring that would be easy enough to clean up. Chalk's biodegradable, right? Environmentally friendly and everything. I used the emergency candles I swiped from the drawer in the kitchen although I had to color them black by using a jiffy marker. Then I tried to figure out how say all the dumb unpronounceable words in the book. Why they don't write this stuff in english, I don't know. You know, like "I want [insert name here] to like me for at least three hours tonight, alakazam!" but no, nothing that easy. 

Don't laugh. Really, so I didn't know what I was doing but at least I tried, right? You don't get anything done if you never try. Didn't work of course and all I did was give myself a huge headache concentrating so hard. Then I had a charley horse in my leg from sitting crosslegged so long and I smudged a chalk line trying to stretch it out and then I nearly set my bedroom on fire when I knocked over some of the candles. I freaked. What if I burned the trailer down? So I'm scrambling around, throwing all my clothes on the fire to smother it and hoping that my mom doesn't pick that moment to tell me supper's ready and wondering how I'm going to explain the scorch mark - that's when I met Mercy. 

Didn't I mention Mercy? It was one of the best moments of my life. Way better than kissing anybody, even Street. 

Mercy's.... well, maybe you'll meet her sometime. I guess with all my concentrating and thinking and doing my best impression of a psychic whammy, I got her attention as she was flying by outside. And she was curious which she does a lot of and stopped at my window and I guess thought it was just hysterical, me jumping around like a jack rabbit in my party dress. So she sort of, well... knocked I guess, and asked me what I thought I was doing. 

She was so beautiful. I mean, all glow-y and stuff, like an angel. Don't look at me like that, I've been around - I know she wasn't an angel but still, you try having somebody like her glide up to your window and ask you what's going on and see what you think. Then somewhere between me bring freaked out and trying to be quiet and explain that she couldn't tell anybody what I was doing and what did she think she was doing anyways, peeking in my bedroom like that.... we became friends. 

Well, more than friends to be honest. I never did get the whole story but she was running away from... well, whatever a kheldian calls home and it sounded like her mom and dad were really, really strict. I mean,  _ really _ strict. They were gonna make her marry somebody she never even met! Or whatever kheldians do that is sort of like marriage. I mean, when they hide inside your body and talk to you and tell you secrets. They wouldn't even listen when she said she didn't want to do it. Apparently it was all arranged too, just like the olden days that you read about in the stories. 

That's not good, right? Nobody should have to do something like that if they don't want to because that's seriously bad karma, even I know that. So Mercy helped me move my dresser a couple of inches over to cover the burn mark and she hung out in my room while I inhaled dinner and I snuck her a sandwich and then she even helped me figure out what to do with my hair so it didn't look so dumb. She said she was never going home again, not in a million years so she might as well hang out with me for awhile. 

And you know something? After all that, Street never even showed up! Cheryl was so bummed out, it was great. I guess it’s a good thing I didn't get that spell to work after all. 

Anyways, I didn't think she'd still be there when I got home but she was and even though my bedroom smelled a little bit like wet cat, she never once mentioned it. Maybe kheldians don't smell things like we do? I'll have to remember to ask. Anyways I showed her the spell book and she said she couldn't figure out why it wasn't in english either and we tried to read it anyways only we both mangled the words so bad that it sounded like we were trying to chew noodles at the same time. I've never had a friend like her before. 

So it seemed like a good idea at the time, okay? She needed to hide out where her mom and dad couldn't find her and she was really brave for running away and everybody needs a best friend, right? So her and I swore to be sisters forever and we'd make Street kiss us again no matter what and then... I guess she married me.   

It was supposed to be a secret. You can't hide out if people know where you are, right? Thing is, I guess she didn't know much more than I did about how merging is supposed to work, even though she swore she did. Mercy's kind of like that, I've figured out. Anyways, we're in the middle of socials class and Mr. Broadley wanted me to get up and write down some dumb stuff about current events only with the dance I hadn't really done a lot of work on it and I sort of freaked about it. I mean, I freaked. 

Well, more like exploded. I became Mercy or she became me and Cheryl apparently wrecked her leg trying to get away. Which I feel bad about because I sort of enjoyed that part. Anyways. Our secret suddenly wasn't all that secret anymore and we got in trouble. I got suspended immediately and after an emergency meeting where people shouted and waved their arms a lot, my principal said that having us explode in the middle of classes was not going to be all that conducive to a study environment for everyone else. 

So now I'm at St. Joseph's because I guess unauthorised bondings aren't supposed to happen and neither of us really know what we're doing anyways and boy, Mercy's parents were upset. I don't mean annoyed, mean  _ upset _ . I don't think Mercy told me half of what she was supposed to about this arranged merging she was running away from. 

Now my mom is pretty much convinced I've been eaten by a demon. I come home to visit and she's tacked up strings of beads to my door and my room smells even weirder from the stuff she's been burning in there to purify the bad energy that attracted Mercy in the first place. Dinner is sort of awkward and Mercy's sense of humor doesn't help much. I sort of try to stay away now, at least until my mom re-centers herself. 

So, yeah. Hi. I'm Aura King. And I'm Mercy Strike. And I sure hope things go better for me here than in my other school.


	2. Quad

This time when she poked her nose into her new dorm, it was empty. Aura breathed a sigh of relief and push-kicked the bag on the floor through the door, struggling with the box in her arms.   The last of her stuff might have taken some explaining. 

_ What's the big deal? Just tell them your mom made you do it. _

"Mercy, that's not fair. You can't blame my mom for everything." 

_ Sure I can. _ Mercy obviously wasn't interested in being understanding today.  _ It's worked so far. Where you gonna put it all anyways?  _

"Uh... under the bed?" Aura hooked a foot into one of the trailing loops of the bag and started to shuffle in that direction. "It'll be safe enough there and it's not like I'm going to need it all the time anyways." 

_ Don't tell your mom that. What are you gonna do when she asks?  _ The tone was half smug, half curious. _ Lying's bad, you know. Your karma will take a dive to the basement.  _

"Oh, it will not. You're exaggerating again." Aura shoved the bag under the bed with her toes, ignoring the crunching sounds. "My karma can handle a little white lie to my mom so she doesn't Vesuvius on me. And I'll use it. Just... not that often." She dropped the box on the bed, bouncing it a little. Aura stretched then, trying to work out the kinks. The stuff wasn't that heavy but getting it over here on the bus hadn't been fun. She found herself wishing wistfully that she just could have flown over. 

_ Uh huh. Well, your mom doesn't talk to me anyways so it's not like I'm going to rat you out. Spooky demon here, remember. _ Aura could feel the whisper that was Mercy fading and then returning again as her attention refocused. _ What do you think of our new roommates?  _

"Oh, wow! Are you kidding me? I think Sam is great! She says hi to me all the time, just like we're friends and she doesn't seem stuck up or anything. I haven't met Joni yet but I bet she's just as nice."  

_ Joni's the one in the contraption? _ Mercy looked at it, Aura automatically turning her head towards at the weird machine taking up what felt like half the quad. There was a feeling of more understanding than Aura personally had.  

"Yes, that's her. I think she needs it to keep warm. You know, because she's cold all the time." 

_ You know, you really ought to bring your mom here sometime, Aura. I bet once she sees stuff like this, she'll stop ragging on both of us. _ The mind-voice was quiet, without a trace of the usual sarcasm.  _ She needs to join the real world instead of wanting you to be in hers all the time.  _

Aura sighed, turning back to rummage around in the box, shoving her clothes around. "She wants what's good for me. That's what moms do." Her fingers found the velvet pouch by touch, pulling it out. "And besides, I know you're not a demon and you know you're not a demon, so what does it matter what my mom thinks? It's not like she can force us apart or anything." The small girl spilled the contents out on the bed, turning over the lumps with a forefinger.  The toilet paper that wrapped each stone in a little insulated barrier didn't disguise what was in the center of each white cloud. Aura could have probably sorted this set of wards just by passing her hand over them. 

Aura nibbled her lower lip, thinking.  

_ I still think you should have your mom visit this place. She might learn something once her brain clears out from incense saturation.  _

"Mercy, stop it okay? Maybe. I'll think about it. After we get settled in, okay?" 

Her fingers moved, selecting without conscious effort. She unwrapped each stone, blowing on the surface to flick off the fuzz. Blue quartz went to the north corner of the bed, a yellow citrine to the east. An large uneven piece of tiger's eye ended up on the west side and a flawed sliver of lapis lazuli rested at the south. She pushed each piece down, wedging it between the mattress and the bed frame. Finally she put a piece of clear purple amethyst on her headboard, rolling it between her fingers, liking the facets of this one. It was one of the few finished pieces and it always felt good to hold. She picked the rest up in her cupped hand and spilled them back into the pouch, cinching the drawstring. 

_ Sure thing. After we get settled we invite your mom over for tea and biscuits. _ There was a heartbeat's pause then a slinky whisper slid across her mind.  _ And speaking of things to eat... just how _ is _ Nigel lately?  _

"Mercy!"


	3. Sight

_ I thought you didn't believe in this stuff. _

"I don't." Aura glared at the three cards on the desk, sunbathing in a pool of light from the swing lamp. She fiddled with the middle one, incrementally realigning its bottom edge to match the others flanking it. She scowled again at the spread she'd re-created from memory.

_ Then just what do you think you're doing, keeping us awake? It's late in case you hadn't noticed and I don't want us to be ugly tomorrow. _

"You go to sleep," she muttered, uncharitably tacking on  _ if I'm bugging you so much _ in the quasi-privacy of her own thoughts. If Mercy caught it, she said nothing which made Aura feel kind of guilty. It wasn't Mercy's problem if something was still prickling under her skin from earlier, a feeling she couldn't shake. And it's not like she did believe in this stuff. It was just for fun for the most part. She fidgeted and eventually opened her mouth to reply, maybe apologise.

_ Okay, fine. You give us a headache staring at those things though, and I'll be mad at you. Remember you promised we'd go hang out with Shimmerfall tomorrow. _

"You just want him to like you so he'll be your boyfriend."

There was a feeling of hesitation and a weird sense of evasion.  _ It's more complicated than that, but sure. So don't mess us up by staying awake too late, alright _ ? The mind voice gentled.  _ If you don't believe in this stuff, why is it bothering you so bad? _

Aura stayed silent but the swirling mess of her feelings was enough of an answer for her other half. She felt Mercy quiet then after a few minutes, tactfully withdrawing to a corner where, if it wasn't sleep, it was close enough to suit both of them. Aura waited for a bit to be sure before going back to her studying. She hesitantly touched each of the cards in turn, trying to get that same shiver from before when she'd laid them out the first time. They remained mute and obstinate.

The first picture was an ethereal hand emerging from a cloud, grasping an upright staff. The stick was solid, almost a cudgel but it was oddly in flower with leaves falling gently along its length. In the background pale mountains marched along the horizon with a small white castle perched at one summit.

"Eight is the number of balance, I remember that much. Inside and out, spirit and body in harmony. Wands are for growth and creativity, an inheritance, a new beginning. That's a good card at the start. Lots of direction here." Aura counted the leaves again. Yes, still eight. "Castles are for the promise of the future, and being on the horizon, this is a movement towards that future." Aura mouthed the words, listening to her mother's voice in her mind.

She looked at the next one where it started to go wrong. This one was of a man in a cloak, hair banded by a silver circlet of authority, standing with his back towards Aura so she couldn't see his face. One hand firmly grasped an upright staff with two more planted near him. Far below his vantage point, ships sailed towards him on a calm sea, again with a line of mountains on the horizon. This one was upside down though which was almost never good.

"Water is for things you don't know," she whispered, "emotions and the secrets you try to hide from yourself. He's not paying attention to what's coming back on the ships, even though he's the one that sent them out." She racked her brains for the rest of it. "A master without control, a warning against arrogance or making a careless mistake out of pride. But at least the water is calm. That's something, right?"

She turned her attention to the last card, feeling unaccountably uneasy. It wasn't  _ that  _ bad. This picture was of a smiling man sneaking away from a number of tents, carrying five swords. Two more swords stood at attention behind him, planted as a barrier to those that might follow or maybe they were supposed to have kept him out in the first place. The land rolled in the background which wasn't good and she could see shadows of fighting men near the horizon. Action, but not close enough to matter. The sneaking man wasn't going to get caught.

"Taking what's not yours, or a betrayal of a confidence." Without realising it, her voice took on a dreamlike quality. "Or running away from the results of a dishonorable act." Aura fisted her hands on top of each other and put her chin on them, staring at the layout until the pictures blurred. "This doesn't make sense. Diego is awfully nice, he wouldn't betray a friend. And why would he need to steal something?" She found herself staring cross eyed at the middle card, sandwiched between the promise at the start and the twisted result.

"Everybody makes mistakes," she whispered, trying to convince herself. "And what are you going to do about it anyways? Just walk up and stay something awfully dumb about watching for what he's sent out to come back wrong? You don't believe in this stuff anyways, remember? It's just for pretend."

It didn't seem to help.


	4. Fraidy Cat

This time the firepit was empty.

Aura breathed a sigh of relief, even though her insides were crawling with prickles. She had to get this done; she did. If she didn't, she'd just never forgive herself if something bad happened. Although what did she think she could really do? Nothing.

No, that wasn't true. It  _ wasn't _ . She  _ could _ do something, even if it wasn't... wasn't bright or flashy. Just because something was small and quiet didn't mean it wouldn't help. Right?

Instead of starting though, she went to the pile of cordwood, carrying back a small armload. She wouldn't be that long and it's not like she wanted a bonfire. That would be greedy. She just wanted somewhere warm to sit and concentrate, that's all. She arranged some of the smaller sticks on the smoldering ashes, blowing carefully. Quickly enough the dry kindling caught and she added the larger pieces one at a time. Pretty soon she had a small, pretty blaze. She settled back on one of the flat sitting stones, folding her legs into a loose lotus.

"You are such a fraidy-cat, Aura King."

The sound of her own voice didn't help. Of course she was afraid. She didn't want to actually see anything, that was the problem and she was almost positive that if she looked, something was going to look back. What if it wasn't good? What if it said that it wasn't going to work, that somebody would be hurt, that maybe something terrible was going to happen?

"You have to do this, you just have to. You don't have any more time." She tried to put some backbone into it but it just sounded thin. "No more excuses."

She looked around, knowing that some part of her was hoping for interruption but the area remained empty. She took out the cards then with determination and started to shuffle. Were they warmer to the touch than usual? No, she was just being silly. They'd been sitting on the pouch on her hip all morning so of course they were warm. She'd do the reading and make sure everything was going to be all right because everything definitely going to be fine, she just knew it.

When Carla sat down next to her ten minutes later, she was still stalling. She was surprised but at the same time, she wasn't. Aura smiled as her tall friend settled.

"Hi."

" Hello, Aura ." Carla brought one knee up, her dark face neutral as she watched the flames. " I was wondering if I would find you here ."

"Were you looking for me?" Maybe she should have left the comm button on. Carla started to shake her head, then nodded and then finally just smiled a little.

" Maybe? I do not know . What are you doing?"

Aura looked down at her fingers as they moved through the cards, sorting, separating, shuffling all the possibilities. "Trying to tell myself not to be afraid. It's not working very well."

"I know the feeling." Carla reached out and tapped Aura's nearest hand. "I meant, why do you have these out?"

"I need to do a reading." She corrected herself softly. "I need to do a real reading. I've been putting it off all week and tomorrow... tomorrow you're going to go, and I don't know what's going to happen. I have to look. Then if I see anything, anything at all, I'll tell Ms. Whisper because she understands. And she can tell everybody else and nobody... nobody will yell at me."

Carla's mouth twisted at the unhappy confession. " You mean David."

Aura nodded jerkily. "He made fun of me, made fun of my name. I'm Aura, not 'Luna Lovegood' and I'm not stupid."

"David did not mean it. He does not trust anything he can not touch or explain, I think." Carla picked up a chip of wood and flicked it into the fire. "He will not yell at you again ."

Aura sighed. "I know, I do. He's just scared too." She struggled for a moment, trying to cleanse herself of the negative emotions of shame and fear. "It's okay."

She had to think positive. She had to charge the air with sympathetic resonance. Unconsciously her breathing deepened as practice turned into actuality, fingers settling into a steady, shifting rhythm. "I will look and I will tell and everything will be okay. Nothing bad is going to happen." She felt better with Carla there. It was as if she couldn't have started without her.

Carla who'd done something terrible after the first reading. Something that Aura could feel almost brushing against the hairs on her arm like a dark animal that she couldn't see, breathing down the back of her neck. She hadn't asked. She didn't want to know because then the weight of it would fasten onto her karma and never let go.

Aura shook her head. Breathe. In. Out. Think of clarity. She couldn't do a reading at all if she couldn't concentrate.

"Carla, help me. Think of Dara. Think of Dara and how much you want her home."

"I am.  I have thought of nothing but for months ." But the South American girl nodded her head and closed her eyes.

Aura licked her lips and spoke to the cards, so they'd know what to do. "Dara is lost. We want Dara to come home." She tried to picture Dara as perfectly as she could, charging the image with a need for return. "What is the way we have to go?"

As easily as that then, she dealt because fear couldn't have a place here. Two flashed down, crossing each other. One below, one left, top, right. True sight, true reading for a true answer.

"Oh... wow."

She just sat there, stunned. Let the cards flash under her sight, not assigning anything, glancing from one to the next, struggling to understand in gestalt.

At her side, Carla shifted, leaning closer. "That...  does not look good . Aura, that really doesn't look good." Her friend's voice started to raise. Aura reached out and grabbed Carla's hand, wanting her to be quiet, needing her to be quiet.

In the last position, Death stared back at both of them.

"Wait. Wait, Carla. I have to.... " Aura bit her lower lip hard enough to hurt. "It's not... "

" Someone is going to die ." Carla's voice was grim. " You must tell me. Who is going to die ? Is it me? Is it Dara? Lisa?"

"No!" Aura looked over, shocked. She shook their linked hands, hard. "Nobody is going to die. Stop it, that doesn't help."

"Then what does it mean?"

Aura took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully. She couldn't do anything if she freaked out now. No freaking out, it was a rule.

"Death doesn't mean dying, it means renewal, things swept away. Look." She pointed to the king falling under the hooves of the pale horse Death rode. "All things fall before him. It's inevitable that things change." She looked again at the spread. Breathe. No freaking out. "Three major cards, all of them in the now and the later. We don't have much control, not once things start."

Carla's fingers tightened but Aura barely noticed as she continued, her voice falling into the pattern of explanation. "At the center, Justice and the Queen of Cups. Judgement, a need for balance. A woman of intuition and dreams. This is what is happening right now, this moment."

Carla nodded even as she spoke. "Justice.  I want justice." The tone was grim. "It is not fair. This whole thing has not been fair. I thought she was just.. still lost.. but she's not. She is supposed to be here with us ! We're not the same without her." There was something fractured in that the admission. Aura stared at her friend uncertainly before turning back, feeling the prickles in her middle start to sink teeth in.

"I think the woman is Ms. Whisper." Aura tapped the card. "She will help us get the balance back again. We have to listen to her."

"Trust me, I am."

Aura moved with more assurance to the card at the bottom. "The past is based in greed and impatience. Somebody wanted something they couldn't get." She touched the next card in sequence. "Struggle and indecision. This has just passed by."

" Greed? What does that have to do with anything?" Carla leaned forward to look closer. "It was an accident. That makes no sense ."

She nodded unhappily. "I know. But the other... I think that's you, Carla." She ran a finger over the picture. "You didn't know what to do. You weren't sure... but you made a decision, didn't you? Turned and fought?"

The other girl hissed out through her teeth, nodding sharply. "You know I did. Dara needs me. You told me I needed to be stronger so... I got stronger." White teeth bared in Carla's dark face. That was the thing she didn't want to know. Whatever Carla had done had been necessary. But that didn't mean that it was good. Aura moved on quickly.

"So this has passed, the decision has been made." Aura looked then at the card at the top of the reading, stifling an inward tremble. "This is what could happen, may happen, might come to be." She hovered her hand over the card, the upside down picture of the naked woman dancing inside the ring of leaves. "The Wheel of Fortune."

"That is good, yes? We could use good fortune tomorrow."

Aura shook her head. "This is the center card in the deck."

"So?"

"So, the weight of all the other cards hinges on this one. The wheel... you can't control it, Carla. It just is. And it’s the wrong way around so this is a card of fear, being afraid to change as things change. Being unable to see what you need to do or being afraid to do it."

"And this one?" The dark haired girl nodded at the pale rider. " What does he mean ?"

"This is the answer. No matter what, this will happen; things will change. Something old will die and something new will be born in it's place." Aura stared at the card unhappily. "Things will be swept away."

Carla ran a hand over her mouth, frowning. " So nobody is going to actually die?"

"I don't know," she had to admit. "The cards never predict death. They can't. I don't think they're allowed to."

"Great. Just great."

Aura unhooked her hand then from Carla's and spread her fingers over the entire layout. Her blue eyes narrowed, as she looked from past to future, from answer to reason. Her voice dreamed. "The struggle to decide what's right will lead to change. Justice between, and a guide. Fear alone stops what will come." Aura blinked, feeling the warm presence of Sight settle over her. She turned to look at her friend, barely aware of anything else.

"That's it. Carla, when it happens, don't hesitate. Don't stop. When things start to change, they have to so don't be afraid. Don't let it stop what you need to do." It was already leaving and she sucked in a breath, reaching. A small frustrated cry broke from her lips. "Don't let fear stop you."

The look on her friend's face would have frightened her at another time. " I have put aside fear. I am not afraid , not anymore. And nothing...  _ nothing _ is going to stop me." There was a flicker of light deep in her gaze like an ember. "Not anything, you hear me?"

She stared then as pure fire rose in Carla's eyes like tears, beginning to eclipse the black pupils. Bright motes started to dance in the twists of her hair. It was almost as if her friend was being pushed aside, turning to flame, to something else.

Aura shuddered, pulling back. Her hands hovered over the cards as if to protect them. "Carla, you're scaring me," she whispered.

"Am I? I am sorry." Slowly the fire died and the prophetess breathed a sigh of relief. She really didn't want to know. Maybe if she never found out, her karma wouldn't sink like a really big rock. She clung to that rationalization with everything she had.

"Did... did that help?" Aura looked down and shuddered again. Death and the Wheel. She'd said something about fear but it was already fading. She bit her lip and reached, sliding the cards back in the deck. She didn't want to see any more potentials.

"Yes. I think I know what to do now." Carla smiled at her and when she looked, there was only darkness and friendship. "Thank you, Aura."

She smiled back uncertainly but already feeling better somehow. "You're welcome."

She'd go right away and tell Ms. Whisper and then she would have done everything she could. It wasn't very much. It wasn't bright or flashy or brave. Maybe it wouldn't help at all.

But at least she'd tried.


	5. MEG

_ A small shadow flits from door to door, from corner to console. Shadow is a bit of a misnomer though as hair pale as straw wisps out under a twist of cloth and blue eyes glow with an inner excitement made real. Somewhere above a subtle alarm blinks for a door opened unwisely and cameras record the movement where there should be none. This is not a place for anyone to be carelessly astray. _

_ The forward advance is accomplished in furtive staggers, with long pauses and backward checks although the sound is lost against the background hum. Bunny ears flop down to drag against the grey floor as the intruder eventually halts, indecisive against the final door. _

_ Ahead machinery rises impossibly high to the vault above. Twisting strands of black loop back and forth in an arcane language she cannot understand although she drinks it in, wondering at the spider that created it. Something tightens as she stares, feeling without understanding. Implacable light, blue and cold, streams from the active screens to stain the metal of the new body, reflecting against the dark eyes that still sleep. Patterns whorl from this place to that, numbers flicker from one eye to the next. _

_ The room thrums to itself of something exalted, slumbering. _

_ She detaches herself after long minutes to cross the expanse under the luminous benediction. She crawls onto the table and moves to the center where she sits, folding her legs into a position of acceptance. She looks up, small and pale, and her eyes glow back with the same light. _

"I told you I'd come back." 

\--------------------------- 

_ There are no obvious signs of recognition; no head to turn, no face with which to raise an eyebrow. There is only a subtle shift in the patterns of lights and sounds, a single monitor that changes its display from a scrolling view of incoming data to a high-resolution securicam image of the girl seated beneath the massive housing. _

Miss King, _ says the voice from everywhere at once.  _ Did you?

\--------------------------- 

_ She nods happily, tucking a drift of hair behind her ear. The motion is mirrored in the single image that reflects her presence but the work continues as systems continue their integration, as sub-routines are checked and rechecked for function. Data sequences walk their way across her upturned face, writing themselves in light. _

"I did, but maybe you couldn't hear me yet. And I'm Aura, not Miss King." 

_ She knots her fingers in her lap. Her eyes are sheened with bioluminescence as she stares rapt at the dwarfing mechanism, trying to see it all and failing. She shifts on the table with the pressure of a longing she can't name. _

"Who are you? Do you have a name?" 

\--------------------------- 

_ The flashing lights and thrumming sounds did not fluctuate this time. On the monitor, Aura watched as the image of herself grew larger. She momentarily thought about trying to find the securicam, but somehow, doing so felt rude. _

All right, Aura. Hello, _ said the voice.  _ My name is MEG. I am more properly referred to as a what, not a who-- but I have been advised by my programmers that it is perfectly healthy for students to personify me, and in time, for me to personify myself. To answer your question, Aura, I am a computer. A very complicated computer.

Tell me, Aura: why are you here? Can I assist you with something?

\--------------------------- 

_ The girl negates the question with a shake of her head then appears to consider it more carefully. Slim fingers pick absently at the soft fur of her slippers as the seconds slip by. On all levels consolidation continues relentless and unceasing; a query is sent to determine the source of blockage at access pathway AF1 through AP5 and the three processing units dedicated to audio input ping back anomalies noted in frequencies recorded. Another unit is assigned to assist in isorithmic filtering. _

"I don't know," _she replies,_  "I just know that I had to. Come back, I mean. I'm sorry, maybe I should have asked first but I really didn't think you'd mind." _The girl_ _straightens her spine and gazes up at the largest display, directing her attention to the most obvious peripheral._ _The massive screen is nearly twice her body length._ "You don't mind, do you? I don't mean to intrude if you're busy and don't have time to talk.


	6. What You Don't See Coming (Will Probably Hurt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (this is a draft/incomplete chapter but it's coherent enough to post)

She tried one more time to make out her reflection in the dull sheen of the wall. 

_ You don't have anything green stuck in your teeth, so stop looking already. _

"Well, how would you know if we did?" she retorted. "You haven't looked." Aura bared her teeth in the elevator, trying to see if anything really was stuck in there from lunch. 

_ I'm not big on looking stupid in front of recording equipment. You're giving the security camera in this thing something embarrassing to watch. Did you want to check that you got your underwear on straight while you're at it, give the monitoring guy a show? _

"Mercy!" 

_ Just trying to help. You could have gotten them on backwards, you know, being that your mom doesn't write your name on the waistband anymore. _

Aura giggled. "My mom never did that. I've never gone to camp, remember?"

_ Oh yeah? _

There was a brief sensation of rummaging and Aura obligingly let Mercy scan the relevant memories. It was a strange sensation as images kaleidoscoped somewhere underneath her actual attention. 

_ What's with that anyways? I would of thought your mom would be all over the get 'back to nature' thing. _

"We didn't exactly have the money." She snatched after the unhappy recollection that her mom hadn't wanted to admit it either and hadn't let Aura ask to be sponsored. Hopefully the disappointment didn't leak over; she didn't need Mercy harping on her mom's case again. She still wasn't exactly sure if Mercy's bad temper counted against her karma but it couldn't hurt to be careful. 

_ Probably just as well. You'd have been leaning over a stream trying to figure out if you had sunflower seeds in your teeth or if the dandelions looked good in your hair and a bear would have walked up and eaten you. _

"Mer-cy!" 

Thankfully the door decided to ding open, forestalling the conversation. Aura scrambled out, skin prickling with goosebumps as she stepped from Paragon to the Pocket. It was really kind of creepy if you thought about it. On one side of the elevator was the city which, while it's own sort of weird, at least was plain old Earth. But a twenty second elevator trip and another set of doors and there you were, suddenly right in the middle of Wonderland.

Maybe her chakras realigned every time she did this, atoms all scrambling up together and standing on their invisible heads. Maybe when she went back they didn't actually scramble back together exactly the same way and she was different each time she went through the doors. Her mom would so freak if she ever found out about that. 

Aura shivered and hastily forgot the thought as she worked her way through the sparse crowd. She tightened the soft scarf around her head, flipping the trailing fringe over a shoulder. Casual, she was really casual. Relaxed. She came here all the time, everybody could see that. It was no big deal.

She skipped through the detectors with a smile for the security watching nearby. One smiled back and half waved.

_ There sure are a lot of them tonight. _ Mercy's voice sounded curious in the back of her mind. Aura ignored her, suddenly distracted.

"Hi, John! Hello!"

"Well hey, Sunshine. Back for the music again?"

"Definitely! Are you having a good night?"

John smiled, dark eyes creasing. He drifted over. "Good enough. Bringing in any weapons I ought to know about?"

Aura pretended to pat her pockets. "Wow, I knew I forgot something."

_ Ask him why there's so much security tonight. I've never seen more than two at door and I can see five without even trying. _

"Well, you've got a pretty devastating smile so that ought to count. Now, don't pull it on anybody or I'll have to ask you to leave the club."

She started to smile, tried to stop. He grinned down at her.

_ Aura.... _

"So, wow. Is it busy tonight? I mean, there's a sure a lot of you guys hanging around."

_ Oh, that was smooth. _

John's expression cooled down a little. "Ghost Widow's in the club tonight. Zero's just making sure nothing gets in we don't notice." The self-important drawl went right over Aura's head. She felt her eyes widen.

"Ghost Widow? Oh, wow! Do you think I'll see her?"

"Better hope you don't, Sunshine. I heard she eats little things like you for breakfast." He glanced to the side.

Aura looked and saw one of the other bouncers with a hand cupped near his mouth, looking at John. Whatever was said into the radio, it made the guy wince. "I gotta get back to my station." He gave her another smile though. "You have a great time. If you lose anything, let me know."

"I will!" She smiled as he left, starting to walk towards the main club floor.

_ I think he likes you. _

"Well, he's really nice. I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't helped me find Alex's jacket." 

_ Not that kind of like, Aura. If you ask me, he's too old for you, but I still bet he'd be more than happy to help you figure out your underwear situation. _

Aura felt the color hit her cheeks but couldn't think of a decent reply that wouldn't involve a lot of guilty meditation afterward.

_So Ghost Widow, huh._ _Call me chicken but let's try really hard not to run into her, okay?_

"It's okay. I'm chicken too."

The sense of quiet amusement in the back of her mind put a smile on her face.

Once through the entry area and into the club proper, she bounced up the nearest ramp. She told herself she wasn't going to look but of course she already was. Sometimes he was wearing his blue letterman jacket but she didn't spot it right away. She did find the rest of the gang against a far rail though by the simple expedient of looking for Matt's ears. Better than a homing beacon they waved above the crowd and provided a rallying point. She started to work her way over. 

"Excuse me... sorry...." Aura half apologized as she skirted a knot of kids that she vaguely recognized. The looks she got would have cinched it even if she hadn't spotted a certain jacket with a blood red circle on the lapel. She shrank a little as one blonde girl made deliberate eye contact. The obvious scan started at the scarf knotted around Aura's head, lingered at the frayed belt at her hips then down to the flared bottom of her faded jeans. The girl half turned to address the immaculate brunette next to her, running a manicured finger along the gold chain at her throat, still smirking.

Aura kept walking but the half-heard 'advice' touched the back of her neck like a finger. She tried not to hunch her shoulders. It didn't matter. She looked just fine, she  _ did _ . She was pretty, Alex said so all the time. 

She was so carefully not watching that the pain in her foot as somebody stepped on it came as a complete surprise. 

She stumbled, crashing into someone. Her hands reached out automatically. 

"Gosh, I'm so sor...!"   

_ Down! _

Mercy was faster than she was. Aura felt her legs just collapse and she hit the ground hard. Mercy was suddenly, frighteningly  _ there _ , pushing forward, sending a surge of copper through her mouth.

"Oww!"

She sprawled with her palms against the floor, the roughness under her fingertips doubling, tripling as senses not her own threatened to overwhelm.

Aura looked up, eyes watering. 

An arm trembled in the air above her head. She saw the knife, couldn't help but stare at the wicked color of metal tucked tight against the inseam of the sleeve. So slim, so sharp. The face glaring down at her was right out of an Aztec nightmare. 

"D... Diego?" 

_ He's fast.  He turned the blade before it hit us. _ She felt both the approval and alien calculation moving under her skin like snakes. She swallowed but the violent, fragmenting nausea didn't lessen.

Mercy didn't see like she did. Mercy didn't feel like she did. She didn't want Mercy to hurt anybody. 

"Madre de _ Dios _ ." The whisper was sibilant, the rest an incomprehensible string of syllables under dark breath. Diego bent from the waist then, the thin steel disappearing somewhere. A hand reached out and she shrank back instinctively. Diego might have frowned, the corners of his mouth turning down. 

"Aura! Little early to be losing your balance, ya?" That was Matt, cheerful as always. "You okay?" His face wavered into view over the other boy's shoulder.

Aura got shakily to her feet. She heard the mocking laughter behind her but it seemed far away. It occurred to her dimly that one of them had to have tripped her for spite. 

"Just.. just fine! I tripped?" It was awkward, wrapping her tongue around the words. Hadn't anybody seen what had happened? Diego's knife? It didn't seem so. 

"Be more careful." Diego's dark eyes bored into hers. "I could have hurt you." There was singing tension in the lines of his body, matched by a ripple in the flesh along his jaw.  

"Not like I intended it!" 

_ Let's make it even and I'll try and hurt you back. _ In the half merge, her lips started to move. Aura locked her teeth and ruthlessly shoved; shoved hard. 

_ Aura, don't! _

Mercy's grip disconnected and with staggering suddenness, Aura's vision snapped back to normal. She swallowed and swallowed again, trying not to gag with the vertigo. 

"Then that es worse," Diego snapped back. His head turned, scanning the crowd. "Es things more dangerous than me to run into if you ess run around like pinball." 

"More dangerous than trying to stick me with a knife?" She hated it when she squeaked. It was so un-cool. "And I wasn't... " 

"Sí, es more dangerous things!" The mask swiveled back again. "And I did not stick you with the knife, I am not so badly trained as that. Keep you voice down." 

Aura gathered her breath again but realised her last comment probably was kind of loud. She was ultra conscious of the space between her shoulders where the kids from the other school were probably staring. Laughing. Pointing. She flushed. 

"What... what sort of things?" Almost being stabbed seemed pretty high up on the list to her. 

The mask concealed so much that it was impossible to get any sort of expression. "There ess magic here tonight; bad magic, strong magic. We should not be here. None of us should be here." There was a weird emphasis in the last sentence, an inflection that Aura couldn't puzzle out. 

"Bad... gosh, Diego. It’s just a party."


	7. AbNormality

Aura was so happy that she was nearly throttling the bag of popcorn. She hop-skipped up the slight incline, the black patterned carpet under her sneakers absorbing the sound easily. Next to her, Sam was smiling, still arguing with Caitlin about some version of the comic but Aura wasn't really paying attention. Joni had disappeared into the washrooms, her ears safely tucked under a jaunty stocking hat borrowed from somewhere. 

"This is going to be the greatest!" Aura crowed. Sam grinned down at her roommate, her own long stride eating up the distance to Theatre #12 and the weekend showing of  _ Iron Man _ . 

"You know it, bud! This is an awesome movie." 

"Thanks so much for inviting me." 

On the other side of Sam, Caitlin smiled at the enthusiasm. "It's about time we all went out, isn't it? And this is supposed to be quite accurate to the original as well as being... " 

"Oh, would you just stop already?" Sam snorted. "It's about as accurate as busted watch from the sixties and besides, they got it all wrong at the end." 

The friendly argument continued as they found their seats, jostling to get something close to the center. Joni caught up while they were trying to decide whether to go up or down. Eventually they flipped a coin, lost it on the carpet and ended up sitting not quite as high as the tanker girl wanted but not as far down as Joni was angling for. Sam immediately slouched to put her knees against the seat in front of her. Caitlin carefully opened the bag of chocolate candies and passed it around. 

When the movie started, Aura was entranced. She squeaked, nearly losing her grip on the popcorn when the Jericho missile went off.  

"Hey, cut out the flashlight!" somebody yelled from behind them. Aura didn't pay attention, her eyes glued to the screen. She closed her eyes during the torture bits, peeking until she was sure it was over. But when they were racing to complete the download and the bad guys were almost on top of them, Aura was near squirming in her seat from agitation. 

"Hey, I said it cut out with the flashlight!" 

A handful of popcorn rained down on them. Aura ducked, then looked back with a frown on her face. She opened her mouth to yell. Really, how rude! She was trying to watch the movie. 

The rumble of an explosion swept through the theatre from the Dolby Surround Sound system like an earthquake and Aura whirled around. The man on screen in the rough iron suit staggered under the hail of fire and Aura couldn't help the burst of the light emitting from her skin as virtual fright became real emotion. 

"Aura!" Sam hissed finally. 

"I'm sorry!" Frantically she tried to damp the glow but she was too flustered to get it to stop. More people started to grumble. Aura flushed scarlet in the darkness and scrambled out of her seat, dashing to the door. 

A few minutes later, her quadmates actually followed. Sam was even holding onto her half a bag of abandoned popcorn. 

"You okay, Aura?" Joni's voice was soft. 

Standing in the middle of the hallway, Aura burst into tears with the unfairness of it all.


	8. Sight 2

_ Aura, this isn't helping. _

She ohmmmed a little louder.

_ Aura.... _

The body remained loosely relaxed, tucked into a full lotus on the bed with the palms upturned on her knees, the attitude of  _ capture _ . The clean light of the autumn afternoon streamed in over her shoulder so her hair sparked with a false halo. The soft curve of her cheekbone pressed against the inside of her skin, making her face remote.

_ Aura! _

"Ow, Mercy! How am I supposed to concentrate on my fourth chakra if you keep yelling at me?" The girl resettled herself, lifting her chin and closing her eyes. "Ohmmmm...."

_ This isn't helping. Would you please stop and talk to me? _

"There's nothing to talk about. I have to cleanse myself, recenter..."

_.. your vibrational harmonies, I know. You're utterly out of balance and both Anja and Anahata are muddy. You can work on them later."  _ Mercy's mind voice was both firm and impatient.  _ You're just trying to avoid me _ .

"I am not."

_ You are too.  _ There was hesitation, question. Then the delicate question floated across her mind.  _ What are you so afraid of? _

"I'm not..."

_ You are. Stop pretending to meditate because we both know you're just humming to make noise. _

For an instant longer the posture held. Then Aura slumped, opening her blue eyes. Her fingers strayed to the hem of her jeans to tease at the loose threads.

"I'm not afraid." But she was and Mercy knew it and she knew it. Aura smoothed her fingers over the pale wash of denim, her favorite pair because they were so old and soft. There was something comforting about the way they hugged her like a second skin.

_ What's wrong? You've spaced out before and never freaked like this. _

Aura smiled as Mercy used her own phrase back at her, but then the expression slipped away. She half shrugged.

_ Talk to me. _

"It's just.. I've never..."

_ What do you mean, you never? You do this all the time. You even do it deliberately with the cards. You weren't even this upset over Carla and you saw some pretty scary stuff then. _ Mercy's voice softened.  _ And I don't blame you for not wanting to look any more. _

"It's not that."

_ Then what is it? So you said something embarrassing. Nobody died of embarrassment you know, not even you. _

"Mercy."

_ What? Look, talk to me already, would you? Your fourth chakra isn't the only thing that muddy right now. I can't figure out why you're so upset over this. _

Aura looked down at her fingers, the almost perfect half moons of her fingernails. "Vesper wouldn't lie to me. I said those things. I Saw those things." She laced her fingers together suddenly, rocking. "I don't remember it but Vesper wouldn't lie."

_ So? Last I looked, you liked Diego. Ever since you stuck that note in his locker, you've been doing grade school stuff to get his attention. Mind you, I think it's working so you might be onto something. _

Aura squirmed a little. "Everybody likes Diego. And he deserved the warning."

_ So what's wrong? Look, he's just going to think you're weird but that's nothing new. He'll get over it.  _ There was a moment's pause.  _ Tell him you ate something strange for dinner and you were hallucinating. See? Problem solved. _

"No, it's not that!"

_ Then what is it already? _

"Mercy, I never See for myself." There. She'd said it. Her fingers were knotted so hard, the knuckles were white.  "Not ever. You can't.”

_ What, is it against the rules? _

"Seeing for yourself, changes yourself," she recited helplessly. "You can't ever See your own future so I shouldn't have Seen anything at all. But I did. And I don't know why." Aura shifted, running the tip of her tongue over her lower lip. It tasted faintly of salt. "That's why I'm scared."

_ Oh. _ They both sat in the sunlight, thinking about it. Finally Mercy replied.  _ You told me that the farther away something is, the more likely it is to never happen. That futures weren't... weren't fixed. Solid or whatever. _

"That's true. That's what my mom says, anyways."

_ So maybe this is just one of those things that never happens. _

"Maybe." The lack of conviction was palpable.

_ Look, just tell Diego you ate a bad mushroom and you didn't know what you were saying. He'll avoid you for a week and then he'll go back to calling you little sister and everything will be okay again. I'll even help you with your French to take your mind off how silly you feel. _

Aura looked sightlessly at her fingers.

"...Okay. Thanks, Mercy."

_ Don't mention it. _


	9. Time Lapse

Aura fidgeted nervously, unable to keep still.

It was cool under the Wingra Tree as an autumn breeze skirled around the open central quad. She had her favorite sweater on, an old heavy knit from some bygone seafaring era with the cuffs all but gone to ragged threads. It had been at least third-hand before it had made it's way into her closet but she loved it anyways for the color, a pale rusty rose that had probably once been a vibrant red. It fell to midway down her thighs, or would have if she'd been standing. As it was she wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest to keep warm.

_ Stop worrying. She'll be here. _

"Are you sure? Maybe she forgot."

_ That's kind of unlikely. With the number of exclamation points you stuck on the note, she probably thinks you're dying. _

"That is so not true." Aura toyed with an unravelling strand. "I only wish I was. Dead sounds good right about now."

Mercy pulled their joint vision to the right, a sensation that never failed to make Aura a little queasy.  _ There she is. _ A figure with flyaway brown hair was jogging in their direction.  _ Told you so. _

Aura smiled as Kirsten came up a little out of breath, plopping herself down on the slightly damp ground with a groan. "Hi, Aura," she said. "I got your message but I ended up under the wrong tree for awhile. You'd think I'd have figured this school out by now." Behind her glasses, her eyes looked rueful as if inviting the younger girl to share in the joke. "So what's the problem anyways? Oh, before I forget, I brought you a sandwich from the cafeteria just in case."

"Oh!" Aura took the slightly squashed food and stared at it. She couldn't tell what kind it was through the plastic. "Thank you? Just in case of what?"

"In case of hunger!" Kristen smiled, unwrapping her own. Aura giggled.

_ I like her. If that's a bologna sandwich, I'll continue to like her all the way through until tomorrow. _ Aura frowned but Mercy was already tactfully withdrawing her awareness, leaving Aura with a flat echo to her thoughts.

"So, have you seen Brianna lately?" Aura was distracted, turning her attention back to Kristen. "She can't stop talking about that Jacob kid. She's all Jacob this, Jacob that, Jacob, Jacob, Jacob. I mean, first it was all Jem but now it's like her brain fell over and had a seizure!"

"What, Jacob? Really?" Aura didn't bother trying to keep the dubious note out of her voice. "Are you sure?"

Kristen shrugged, taking a huge bite out of her sandwich. "I dunno either, but it's all she's been talking about all morning."

"But Brianna doesn't even like Jacob. She said some really not nice things about him once." Aura pulled her eyebrows together in confusion but then shrugged. "I really don't know anything about him except that somebody told me once he was a really bad kisser and besides, he's a whole grade ahead of me so it's not like it matters or anything since he won't want to kiss me. Anyways, couldgointothefutureforme becauseitsreallyimportant andineedyoutohelpme?" She ended the sentence on a hopeful, uprising note.

Kristen actually stopped chewing. "Whoa! Slow down, even I don't usually talk that fast! What about the future?"

Aura realised she was actually denting the plastic form in her hands, mangling the soft bread inside and she placed it guiltily on the grass. She twisted her fingers together instead. "Well, you can, can't you? You can actually go there and see things that are happening and I could really use some help, you know, if you could? I would really appreciate it! You have no idea."

Kristen blinked a few times, mouth open. Aura could see mashed up crumbs, which was kind of gross. She leaned forward, anxious that she not be misunderstood but she kept her eyes averted so she wouldn't have to look at the green piece stuck to Kris' front tooth. "I'm not going to ask for the lottery ticket numbers, gosh! That would be really dishonest and I wouldn't do that, not even if I really needed the money. My karma would probably turn me into a frog for years if I tried." Which Aura thought was also sort of unfair but she didn't think now was the time to mention it.

Her friend opened her mouth a few times. That helped with the crumb situation thankfully. "Well, I mean, yeah? I can, like, totally go into the future, it's my thing, you know? It takes some concentration and it doesn't  _ always _ work... but yeah, I can go ahead a little. But what about your karma? I didn't know you wanted to be a frog."

Aura clapped with relief, hearing the cheerful agreement in Kris' voice. "Oh, would you? Please? Go into the future okay, and see what I'm doing. I promise, I won't use it to hurt anybody or cause any trouble or those.. paradox things that I read about in a story once or any of that other time travel stuff. I'll be awfully grateful because I'm really in just a huge amount of trouble."

"What _ you're _ doing? Well... ummm...." Kristen rubbed the back of her neck. "It doesn't exactly work that way and it's totally not that easy, you know."

"It's not?"

"Aura, just what did you do anyways?" Kristen was just staring at her and it was kind of disconcerting. "Jaywalked? Broke curfew?" Her voice lowered. "Got busted for drugs?"

Aura shook her head hard enough to cause hair to get in her mouth. She spat out a few strands. "Oh, gosh no! I would never do that. Well, maybe jaywalk because sometimes you're in a hurry. No, I just opened my big fat mouth and now Diego is never going to talk to me again and it's just not fair, he was just starting to be nice. Kris, you have to go and look for me! I can't, I've tried and tried..."

But now Kristen was staring at her like she'd just grown a third head, the half eaten sandwich forgotten in her hand. "Zorro? This is about  _ Zorro?! _ Like, what did you say exactly? Tell me everything." But she didn't wait for an answer. "How far forward am I supposed to go? I could get to next week maybe and see if he's being a jerk. Want me to tie his shoes together if he is? I could manage that, I'm sure."

"Oh, no. Next week won't help. It's not like I know exactly but I'm sure not going to get married while I'm still in school and I still have to get to Paris and get famous first. So... maybe ten years? Could you just hop into the future and see what I'm doing in ten years? And... um, who I'm doing it with?"

"Ten...  _ years? _ " Kristen's voice rose up into an operatic register and she whistled softly. "I've... I've never even gone ten months, let alone years."

Aura could almost see agreement being snuffed out before it grew up into real help and she grasped after the desperate essentials. "It's awfully important, you have  _ no _ idea. I promise I'll help you with your homework and guard your stuff and... and I'll even be your best friend if you want."

"Um, yeah. Years? Totally a bit of a problem with that."

Aura slumped on the grass. "You won't do it?" Maybe the best friend card had been the wrong thing to try.

"It's not that! It's just.. I don't have that much control. Short jumps are okay, I'm fine for those." The other girl waved a hand and seemed surprised to find a sandwich in it. She took another bite out of reflex. "Next week I could manage, I'm pretty sure."

"Kris, please! I don't know what else to do. I don't even know who else to ask! Simon can't look ahead more than a half hour so he's totally hopeless for this. Can't you just focus really hard, just this once?"

"Aura, it's not that I don't want to! I can't just make myself jump years ahead, that's like, totally impossible!"

"What? But you said you could see the future! And I really need you to, just this once. Please!"

Kristen rubbed the back of her neck again. "Come on, you know how I sort of space out sometimes?"

Aura nodded. "You look really weird. Josh wanted to draw on your glasses that one time during class but I didn't let him." She threw that in there, hoping it might help. She tried to look really friend-worthy, although honestly Josh hadn't actually done more than just say he wanted to draw squinty eyeballs. Still, Kristen didn't have to know that.

"Well, I don't just see things in the future... I actually go there. I'd be sleeping for  _ months _ ."

"Months? I don't want you to go for months! I just want you to sneak a quick look, just see for a minute or two and let me know what's going on." Aura was pretty sure Kristen wasn't grasping the specifics here. "You don't have to spend a lot of time there, honest."

Kris crammed the last of the sandwich in her mouth, chewing furiously. "I don't see things Aura, I go  _ forward _ ." The words were garbled but understandable. "Physically, I'm like, in both places. At the same time." She swallowed. "It's kind of hard to explain."

Aura was pretty sure that was a true statement. "But you're right here! And I really did save your glasses, you know."

"Yeah, but I zonk out. Just like that." Kristen snapped her fingers. "I'm in both places but I can only live in one. Least that's what they tell me."

"Oh. Oh!" Aura blinked a few times as Kristen nodded.

"I know, it's way crazy. The longest I ever jumped was like, three months and I ended up sleeping for a couple of weeks. I scared the living daylights out of my parents." The tone might have been casual but Aura wasn't fooled. She pictured her own mom waiting for her to wake up and she gulped. "That's why I'm here, so that if I just stop moving, somebody knows to get me someplace safe until I, you know, come back." Kristen peered at her through the glasses, looking worried. "Aura, I want to help, I do... but I can't. Even if I could go that far ahead, I can only go where I am. Not where anybody else is. I mean, I could go there and if you weren't anywhere around me, I wouldn't have any idea. And I'd have to take Socials again when I got back."

The blonde girl nodded, not really catching the rest of the confession for the sudden, sinking disappointment. She'd hoped so much to get an answer but not like this; not by making Kristen sleep the entire school year away. It had sounded so easy! How come things weren't ever easy? Just one tiny, little, harmless shortcut. Just a peek at a future and she'd know if somebody else could See what she'd apparently Seen. It was possible that she was wrong. She'd been wrong before. Maybe not with a vision, but there was a first time for everything, right? 

Aura found herself staring at the food she'd put down and she sighed. Mechanically she picked it up and started peeling off the wrapping. Kristen was still still talking, still trying to be nice about the whole thing. She really was a good friend. Aura took a bite out of the sandwich.

if she couldn't get an answer, at least she could get lunch.


	10. Cassandra

There is a moment when she is lost and doesn't know it. 

It is the nature of her gift that she will never know. The moment of her greatest clarity will be forever hidden to memory, overwhelmed as it is perhaps. Stare at a candle and it will burn the shape of itself into your eyes. No matter where you look, the shadow follows until you can finally, gratefully forget. But stare into the sun and you will never see anything again. 

It is said that what God gives with one hand, he takes away with the other. Which the gift, which the punishment? Perhaps even He doesn't know anymore. 

"I'm afraid," she says, and she is. The tarot are answers, framed in pictures she understands. The understanding calls the pictures even, her knowledge bringing hidden things up to the surface. She tells the truths that are already known, the intricate borders of the laminated cards a necessary maze between the sleeping and waking minds of those around her. They are not frightening; she is used to the startled reactions, the wary nods. She is only telling the story she sees laid out in a cross that was old when the deserts were born.   

Tea leaves in a bottom of a cup, bones made from the fingers of a wise man, the pattern of blood spattered on a scraped hide. Stories, only. 

"I am afraid of what I might see," she repeats helplessly, not knowing how to say it any other way. "I don't want to be wrong." The others nod, but already they murmur their objections. She can only do the best she can, they say. She can only try, that the effort in itself is important. The rightness of it, the wrongness, that is not for her to decide. It is not as if this is something she cannot do. They are strong, all of them are growing into it and they will protect her, each other. There is no reason to be afraid. 

They cannot know, with their gifts blazoned on their skin, in their eyes, in the crushing strength of a hand that can still hold a cylinder of tin without a dent. Their gifts are on the surface. When control is lost, it can be corrected, contained, captured again. Once more made to serve. 

She will never know what she sees. She will never know, not like looking at the picture of the man with ten swords buried in his back, just one truth waiting to be told in someone else's story.  

"You don't understand," she says, as if words alone will describe what she fears. And for a heartbeat, two, her eyes become dark, blue eclipsed by raven wing black. She is lost. She has lost. 

She will never know what she says; whether truth or lies or the terrible mix of both that leads good men to forgotten graves. Her name is not Cassandra but in another time and place, it might have been.  

"When I See for Diego, everyone will be afraid." 

What God gives, he does take back. But He does not have to explain Himself.


	11. Backstory 2

Aura is continuing to struggle with both her heritage and her circumstances. 

To date Aura King and Mercy Strike, the two halves of a Kheldian bond-pair, have still been unable to achieve a complete merge. This inexplicable inability has caused consternation at some levels of Kheldian society but so far the pair have been left in relative peace at St. Joseph School as the best measure available for their fragile state. Aura remains unaware of the fact that her bond is in any way unusual, an innocence that Mercy continues to guard. What Mercy's stake is in a bond to a fifteen year old high school girl is apparently her own business. The Kheldian Sunstorm continues to keep unobtrusive tabs on Mercy's whereabouts, including her nebulous relationship to Shimmerfall, a warshade merge. 

While Aura has grown up with her mother's rather wayward new-age teachings, it is now obvious that the overlay actually hides real precognitive ability. While Aura can and does seem to focus much of her ability through tarot readings, she continues to caution people that the cards only reveal paths, not futures. She is also not really convinced that the tarot is anything other than a very fancy card game. Sometimes you can find Aura playing Go Fish with her deck, for example. 

Earlier in the year a number of Aura's classmates were caught in a time disruption during a school field trip. While Aura was not included in their number, due to her mother's refusal to let her leave the city for the trip, she was immediately caught up in the aftermath of their return. Dara Marks was left trapped in the time bubble and a rescue was mounted, spearheaded by Carlitta Schmidt and David Andrias (Candlestick). Aura's precognitive abilities evidenced at that time and since then they have occurred with more frequency and import. 

Recently Aura had her deepest precognitive flash during a loud social event that apparently revealed her eventual marriage to another student in St. Joseph's. Since that revelation, a number of things have been set in motion, not the least of which is a reoccuring nightmare of dark import. Blocked by Aura's conscious mind, possibly because of her rejection of the vision itself, her unconscious continues to evolve the dream sequence in a nightly stream of warnings. Why and how those will resolve is still unknown. To date, Aura has refused to admit that her vision and attachment to Diego de Compostelaro has any validity in time, and continues to search for a way to disprove it. 

Attracted possibly out of spite to a boy at a sister school in the Rogue Islands, unaware of the motives of those around her and especially the one closest to her, unable to confront her deepest self, Aura is at this moment on the cusp of many things - including the simple action of growing up.


	12. Round One: Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (written by Diego's writer, not me, sadly. Although I did get to spell check it and adjust my dialogue.)

Heyla;

I redrafted this because I'm a pain in the ass, stripping it all back to just Diego's POV, tense shifted some stuff, corrected spelling and I added some more descriptive bits on Aura's part. Any different? Does it read better this way? I'm not sure.

By the way, this is the point where you tell me to keep my damned hands off your fiction, thank you very much. and i meekly reply "yes'sir".

\-----------------------------------------

Diego hadn't necessarily intended to remain masked the whole night. Still there were always reasons to keep the voices of the Diestros close.  Plus as safe as Pocket D always prided itself on being, it never hurt having enhanced awareness considering the nature of the....people who often went there.  

And it had paid off.  He'd have disliked the boy from Bloodvine's personality regardless.  But his sentiment had been confirmed by that familiar tingling at the back of his neck, that otherwise unidentifiable feeling of clenching dread that meant the presence of inherent magic of the sort the Diestros had had to watch out for for generations.  

He'd done his best to ignore it, though.  It was, for the moment, enough to catalogue and observe the potential threat.  Even as the boy had fawned over Mieri, and she in return, Diego had bitten his tongue and focused on his own affairs.  But the boy had then turned his attention on Aura, and worse, Aura had eaten it right up.  There are limits.  There are always limits. 

The night had wound down and people were starting to make their departures.  The Bloodvine boy was already gone, though not soon enough.  The damage had been done. Diego watched with a unseen frown as Aura sighed breathlessly. 

"I bet he kisses like a panther," Aura remarked, out of nowhere.  The stars were practically dancing in her eyes and the look on her face probably meant fantasies spinning in her head. She was still staring towards the door where the boy had disappeared. "All hot and dangerous."   

The words struck Diego like a bucket of ice water.  He didn't know if it was the natural defensive instinct that Spyros had aroused, or if it was because he felt almost unwillingly protective towards the girl.  Her Vision had linked them and he at least felt it. He realised suddenly that in the midst of other worries, he had no idea who Aura  _ was _ . How could she say something like that? 

On her way out, Jessiy chortled. "Whoa Aura...down girl!" Nearby, Joni seemed about ready to melt away at the very thought.  Alex was already snickering, apparently not surprised by the outburst.  But Diego couldn't, wouldn't, just let it go. He felt compelled to point it out. 

"Panthers es also can rip out throats." 

For her part, Aura shrugged. "But they kiss like it's worth doing." She sighed again, her expression soft. 

If Diego had thought about it, he might have wondered why he was losing composure so quickly, so completely out of proportion.  But then, that was the point; Diego wasn't thinking.  Aura was managing to get him to react from pure, unfiltered emotion.  "You es some kind of expert?" he replied incredulously. 

And Aura nodded. "I am very good at kissing, it's a lot of fun.  It's a lot like dancing, only the music is beautiful just in your head." She'd risen to the bait and not about to be outdone.  "And Mieri is really lucky to have a friend like that to practice with." 

At that Mieri blushed, while Diego noticed that Alex's face seemed to twist in what might have been distaste.  Mieri interjected or objected, it was hard to say. "I am not in the habit of kissing Spyros these days." Alex seemed to relax at the other girl's confession but it was secondary, something noticed and then filed away for later reflection. Diego was focused on Aura who had changed into something strange right in front of his eyes.  

"Diablo, en serio?  What es...why...can you no...." 

Aura just furrowed her brows together, obviously not following Diego's stumbled words.  "But I just said I can. And I do. Often. And boy, would I like to do it with him." 

Mind racing a mile a minute, Diego could barely line up his thoughts coherently in his native language.  Trying to translate and make sense in english seemed like quantum physics, and the effort on top of everything else finally brought him to the end of his rope. "Carajo, odio éste idioma, nunca puedo decir lo que quiero!  El grita peligroso y ustedes creen que es atractivo y no algo evitar!" He waved a hand in frustration, resorting to something understood by everyone watching. 

"... Wow."  That, at least, brought a pause from Aura, who looked taken aback at the vehemence. The few girls still watching started to clump together as the tension rose. The emotion behind the exclamation was clear, was even if the words themselves were not.  "In  _ english _ , gosh. I am not very good at French yet and I sure don't understand Spanish at all." 

"I no want english, esstupid language esstupid people esspeak," Diego retorted, in the midst of a near-tantrum.  "Estupidos y ciegos!" 

"Gee thanks, Diego." That was Alex but it was Aura who drew herself up, her own temper obviously rising and determined to match him. It was like watching a kitten turn into a tiger. 

"I am not stupid. My name is  _ Aura _ , not 'stupid english' and I happen to  _ like _ kissing! It’s one of my favorite things to do with a boy and Spyros was really nice and I bet he really does kiss like a panther! You're being awful medieval about this, you know." 

Alex sighed as Mieri shifted uncomfortably as the argument continued.  Joni, meanwhile, was practically cowering in place as their voices started to rise. 

"Medieval?!" 

"Medieval!"  Aura stomped her foot for emphasis.  "Stuck in the dark ages!" 

"Just because an idea is old doesn't mean it should be abandoned... and calling someone stupid is a poor way of convincing someone of something," Alex threw in from the side, probably  trying to be a voice of reason.  Unfortunately, it was far too late for reason. 

"Díos ayuda me, da me fuerza, Maria y los  _ Santos! _  Just because someone es manners no mean they es 'nice'!  Danger es most danger when no look like danger!" How could she not understand? The boy was bad, evil magic had swirled around him all night, Diego could all but smell it. Just because he hadn't done anything.... 

Over the roaring in his ears, Diego heard Mieri asking Alex what was going on. 

"Besides, I don't know why you're so upset," Aura said, raising her voice higher and higher, starting to out-distance all the background noise of the club.  "It's not like he up and offered to kiss me. He's busy with Mieri, being 'good friends' and all. So I might have to wait my turn but still,  _ he _ noticed me. And what's wrong with danger? I  _ like _ adventures!" 

Out of the corner of his eye, Diego saw Alex lean back to Mieri. Her lips moved with the word and a Diestro from somewhere translated it. He filed it, this was no time to be distracted. Mieri's color turned pink, her hand rising to play with the golden locket around her neck. Was she trying not to react to this? Did Aura even know what she'd just said? 

"Diablo que niña, what you mean ‘he’ notice you?!" As if Diego ignored her!  He never ignored her!  He couldn't have even if he wanted to.  But if she wanted notice...well, Diego was masked, and a mere thought brought knowledge he didn't normally possess to the tip of his tongue.  Like knowledge of Tarot cards.  "En any rate, es big difference between adventure y walk blind off cliff!  You should know picture of walk blind off cliff, sí?  Es there no card with that picture?" 

It struck home and Aura jerked back, then glared furiously, her cheeks warm.  "It's called The Fool. Life choice, made blind.  One  _ you'll _ never get because you wouldn't take a chance on  _ anything _ even if it walked up and  _ bit _ you!"  Diego got a grim, bitter smile at that, but Aura wasn't done. Her fists were clenched at her sides. "Always trying to do the right thing, Diego! Always wanting to make the right choice, stack everything your way!  Well, it doesn't work like that!" 

Mieri must have caught something, a thread hidden among many others.  "Maybe try kissing instead of biting, Aura..." she said, perhaps with worry. 

Diego wasn't listening.  "Oh sí, Aura?!  You think so?!" 

And Mercy Strike stamped her foot again. This close, Diego could see the sudden sparkle of what had to be furious tears on surprisingly dark eyelashes.  Joni had moved close enough to Alex that the two of them nearly shared a single profile in his peripheral vision. "I know so! 'See for me, Aura, do what I can't'? Why? Because you can't bear not to know what's going to happen. You have to know  _ everything _ , have to be prepared for everything! Well, you don't know  _ me! _ And you don't own me yet!" The cry went right to his heart like an arrow. "If you want a kiss, you can stand in line behind  _ Spyros! _ " 

That did it. Diego was not really listening anymore, he wasn't even seeing.  Everything seemed trapped in a dark, red haze.  "If I no take chances, I would no  _ be _ en this situation!" His answering fury mounted. That she would say such a thing! "I would no jump into beams of energy y bullets y weapons with only reflex protect me!  I would no have put on mask, y be broken right now!  I would no have go surf en winter y catch pneumonia..."  Diego's voice caught in his throat, but he kept going.  "I would no have had pneumonia when family es all take trip, and I would have die with them!  Like I should have!" 

Mieri moved her hand to her mouth.  Alex expression was indistinct but Joni seemed surprised and clung to Alex, seeking more comfort.  Aura, though, was having none of it. She was spitfire and claws, her eyes flashing with more than just emotion. It was an unnerving sight, or would have been if he wasn't trying so hard to master this, drive his point home. If he even remembered what the point was. "Well, you're not dead! Stop acting like you think you are." 

"I es dead," Diego intoned in a flat, vicious voice.  "Es only matter of time until I find out how.  Until then, I have duty." 

"I think maybe this isn't the place I should be," he heard Mieri whisper. She'd probably reached the limit of what she could stand of the emotional maelstrom. Diego wasn't sure how much more he could take either. He was lost in a swirl of darker thoughts, a part of him floating outside himself, looking at himself among the souls of the Diestros who were currently watching over him. How would he handle this, another in a series of required actions. The souls of deceased who had lived their lives, performed their duties, and passed on the task to the next generation on through the march of centuries. He couldn't lose the only Seer he knew of, it couldn't be allowed to happen. He struggled to reign his temper back in. 

"Maybe I end up Duelist, or Adventurer, or maybe I esstay Youngling."  He left it unsaid that there was but one way to stay a Youngling; he doubted anyone there knew enough to catch it anyway.  "I no know.  But until I find out, I can no afford fail." He tried to make her understand, to see it his way. "THAT es why I need you help, Aura." 

The words had far from their intended effect.  Her back stiffened and her fingers curled hard in fists. She was actually shaking.  "I am not ... I am not your  _ duty _ .  I don't want to be the thing you need because  _ duty _ says so.  And I won't See for you, until you see me."  She paused, and greater, deeper emotion crept into her voice.  "Me.   _ Aura _ .  Spyros saw me. And I'm not waiting for you.  Be medieval for somebody else." 

"I....you....."  Diego again struggled to regain coherence at that declaration, but just like that it was too late. Aura stalked off, shaking with ill-concealed and ill-handled anger. As she left, Diego could do nothing but growl with pure, heartfelt frustration.


	13. Lion Tamer

The floor was cold under her bare feet. 

Aura shivered but kept moving, the hem of the long shirt flapping around her knees, the cuffs rolled up to her elbows. In one hand she had a discarded tube of somebody's lipstick, salvaged from a trash can. There wasn't a lot in it, but she didn't really need that much. 

The pearlescent dawn light was starting to move from grey to gold as she slipped into the bathroom at the end of the third floor hall. It was thankfully empty since nobody in their right mind would be up this early. Well, maybe Barrier who ran track and field but the RA was probably already out doing laps. Her quad at least had all been sleeping when she'd slipped out, including Sam who'd been snoring like crazy again. 

Aura uncapped the lipstick and stretched up on her tiptoes over the sinks to reach the long mirror.

When Joni, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, walked into the bathroom an hour later, she was greeted by the bright red scrawl.

_ I am a lion tamer! _ it reminded her.


	14. Meanwhile, Back At The Quad

She punched the pillow. It caved instantly with a mute look of reproach. She hit it again.

Behind her, the door to the quad clicked open. Aura didn't look, just lined up for another shot. Of all the brainless, stupid,  _ moronic _ ...! She whacked the pillow again, imagining she'd come up with the absolutely, most perfect thing to say right at the very end and he'd been left standing there feeling stunned and ashamed and then of course he'd come find her and he'd tell her how sorry he was for how he'd treated her and what he'd said, even if she couldn't remember everything exactly, and then she'd just forgive him because it was the right thing to do and then she'd just explain....

"Aura, you okay?"

She whirled on the bed and just glared at Alex.

"That's a really dumb thing to say." Some part of her couldn't believe she'd just said that but the voice was small and rote.

"Probably, but I couldn't think of anything else." Behind the brown haired girl, Joni edged into the room as if using Alex as a shield. Her ears were flattened down but she spoke anyway, her soft voice accented with nervousness.

"Um... can Alex and I.... talk to you?"

"Why?" As soon as it left her lips she opened her mouth to apologise. That was mean. Joni didn't deserve that.

"You know we wouldn't bring this up if it weren't important." Problem was, everything was important to Joni. Everything was earthshaking to Joni. Crossing the quad without Alex to hold her hand was probably a red letter day in Joni's books. Aura felt herself scowling. They were just going to sit there and tell her not to be mad when none of it was  _ her _ fault.

"I don't want... he's the one being stupid! Yelling at me in Spanish so I won't understand." Aura grabbed the abused pillow, hugging it to her chest. "I don't want to talk about Diego."

The two girls seemed to take the outburst as permission to move farther into the room. Joni sat down gingerly on the edge of her bed as Alex moved in to hover by her shoulder. Together they made a tableau of anxious butterflies, their expressions nearly identical. Under any other circumstance, the similarity might have made Aura giggle. " ...It's not about him. Um, it's... about Spyros."

"Spyros? What about Spyros?" Aura scowled again. "I thought he was great. He was beautiful and wonderful and did you see how he noticed me? Out of everybody!"

Joni glanced at Alex, maybe asking permission. "....I'm just...you have to know...." Joni took a breath. "He was... I mean... he is a bad influence on Mieri. I mean, really bad. He tried to get her to move to the Isles, you know." The pale girl was acting like it was a fate worse than death, her eyes entreating Aura to understand just how terrible it was. Aura rolled her eyes.

"What's wrong with that? They're  _ good friends _ , remember?" The emphasis was unmistakable.

Joni fired back immediately. "And quit school?"

Aura wasn't even close to phased. "So what? School is not that exciting. In case you haven't noticed." She set her jaw and stared at her roommate and Alex. "I'd quit school too to be with a guy like that."

"Aura!"

"Okay, fine, I wouldn't." Aura struggled for a second, then burst out. "How could he talk to me like that? I am not walking off a cliff, just because somebody handsome wants to flirt with me. Gosh, boys do it all the time! Just who does he think he is, anyways?"

Joni just stared at her. "I thought we weren't talking about Diego."

"We're not." Aura dropped the pillow into her lap and thumped it. Joni sighed.

"Alex?" The plea for rescue was obvious.

The overhead light flickered off Alex' glasses as the other girl took a deep breath. "Spyros... I'm ... I mean,  _ we're _ pretty sure that Spyros isn't as nice as he... seems."

Okay, this was like something right out of a bad novel. She just stared at the other two. They didn't look like their brains had been sucked out their ears in the last hour, even if it had obviously happened. "Most everybody isn't as nice as they seem, I'm not that much of a dumb bunny. Gosh, I'm not trying to  _ marry _ the guy." That was entirely the wrong thing to say. She hurried on. "I just want to get into a corner and practice some stuff. Just as long as Mieri isn't around to get in the way."

"Aura, you can't!" That was Joni but it was Alex who kept talking.

"You have to listen to us. I'm telling you, Mieri seemed perfectly happy dating Will and she kept saying she was going to break it off with Spyros but every time she got anywhere close to him, she just went to mush." Joni nodded like her head was on strings. Aura just about lost it.

"What, just because a girl liked him better than her so-called boyfriend, he's like what? Some sort of alien? With icky creepy alien telepathy?" Aura wiggled her fingers at them. "Well, I'm not buying it. And even if he  _ is _ an alien, he's  _ still _ cute and I like him way more than I like you guys right now." 

The truth of the matter was she had no idea if she liked him or not and she'd seen plenty cuter. But Joni and Alex were staring at her like she'd just grown a third head and it just made Aura madder.

Alex leaned forward, her voice lowering to a near whisper. "He might... he really could be. You know. Using mind control. As an edge. We've talked about it and it's the only thing that makes sense." Joni looked worried as if she actually believed what Alex was saying.

"Do I  _ look _ mind controlled?"

Alex shook her head. "Nope. But neither does Mieri." The logic was apparently inescapable going by the identical expressions. Did they practice it in the mirror? Aura groaned and threw herself back on the bed for a second. Gosh, this was like arguing with a brick wall. A brick wall with good, if dumb, intentions. She sat back up again and pointed a finger at them.

"You ever think for a minute that maybe it doesn't look like we're mind controlled, because we're _ not _ mind controlled?" She waved both hands. "Gosh, you guys! He's handsome. He's  _ romantic _ ." Aura floundered for a moment.

"He's everything you hope for in a guy?"

Aura just stared at Alex, jolted out of herself for a second. Joni managed to look awkward without moving a muscle. If she didn't know Joni as well as she did, she'd have thought the other girl hadn't even taken a breath since she walked into the room. Aura fumbled for an answer.

"Well, he was best looking one there, definitely." Something had to add spitefully; "Being that all Diego did was stand there looking like a thundercloud."

"... And act like a jealous boyfriend." Alex took another shot but this one Aura was ready for, dismissing it instantly.

"He can't act like a jealous anything because he _ isn't _ anything. Except medieval and... and draconic." She spat out the twenty five cent word with triumph. "What, does he think I'm  _ twelve _ and never kissed anything but my puppy? Gosh."

"...then if he's not jealous, why, um.... do you not trust him then?" Joni's soft question floated across the room but by the uncomfortable expression on her face, she already wanted to take it back. Aura yelped with frustration.

"Trust him? With what!" She whacked the almost forgotten pillow that had fallen to the side with the flat of one hand. "He just wants me to See stuff, like it's a switch I turn off and on. 'Quick Ora, See around the next corner so I do not esstrip over something'."

Alex' "I doubt that!" was overriden by Joni's, "I thought you spent time together because you were friends."

The voice trailed away. Aura just stared after it in confusion. She picked up the pillow and hugged it, feeling the unaccountable prickle of tears before scowling them away.

"We are not friends. Not anymore, not if he's going to be like that. And if I see Spyros again, I am going to march right up and talk to him and get to know him an  _ awful _ lot better than I do right now and absolutely nobody is going to stop me." She narrowed her eyes. "You guys are just being... being freaked out, with this ickyity micky mind control, right out of the late night movies stuff. You're just jealous he didn't notice  _ you _ ."

Alex made a face but Joni started to giggle. She stifled it almost as soon as Alex looked down, her ears flattening from the half mast they'd risen to. Aura wasn't finished though.

"And if that's all you have, that obviously he's got alien telepathy because otherwise why  _ else _ would anybody like him, when he's rich and handsome and charming.... I'm going to go to the quad and try talking to St. Joseph’s statute who at least doesn't say dumb things like that."

"Aura, please. There's something really wrong about him. Mieri... "

Her temper rose again. "What about Mieri?! Girls. Like. Boys." She glared at the pair of them like she'd never seen them before. "Especially dark panther boys! You two really need to get out of the dark ages yourself."

Joni spluttered, "I don't..."

Alex was the one who cinched it. "I don't date." Her expression was closed, her voice final. As if it was the worst thing in the world to happen to somebody. Aura threw the pillow at the wall. She hopped down from the bed, near vibrating with something hard to name.

"Well, you should try it. It would probably help."

And she stormed out the door.


	15. Bridge

_ You're not being fair. _

The mind voice was quiet and very carefully non-judgemental. Mercy had had a lot of time learning how to deal with her bond-mate. 

Aura threw another rock into the black water below, listening morosely for the splash. She swung her sneakers out over the drop. She'd just spent the last forty five minutes going over just how much everybody was going to be sorry when they fished her cold, dead body out of the turgid river. She'd pretty much finished imagining how all her friends would react and exactly what they'd all say, paying particular attention to the scene where Spyros showed up at her funeral with his arms full of black roses, wearing this really spiffy black coat with silver buttons. Mercy had waited until she'd milked that, with a few variations, before interrupting the fantasy.

"I don't want to be fair." It was petulant and she knew it. Still, if she couldn't say it to Mercy, who could she say it to? "He had no right to say that stuff to me." 

_ Didn't you listen to a single thing Diego said? I did. _

"I listened just fine. He's... "

_ A real moronic jerk, I know. For actually daring to point out that you don't know this guy Spyros from a hole in the ground, among other things _ . She could feel Mercy musing in the back of her mind.  _ He was slick, I'll give him that. He was pretty damned nice to all the girls but he made sure to pay an amazing amount of attention to you. After you managed to throw yourself at his feet like a panting bitch, that is. _

Aura squirmed. Mercy had a way of cutting through things that wasn't always pleasant. "I did not and I am not. Besides, he likes me for me. He said so."

_ In case you failed to notice, I'm pretty sure he's the kind of guy that would like any girl without brains. Which you did a remarkable impression of. _

Aura hissed under her breath, her eyes smouldering as she stared down into nothing. "Are you calling me stupid, too?"

_ No. But I've never known you to get so mad at somebody over absolutely nothing before. Which means you're actually mad about something else. _

She fumbled around for another rock. Her fingers closed over something and she hurled it in a wide arc.

"I. Am. Not. Mad."

_ No, I'm pretty sure you're furious. But you're just driving yourself into a frenzy with it and I can't tell what it's really about since you're holding it in so tight, you've got us both vibrating. You keep trying to grab power, you know. _

Aura looked down with astonishment. She wasn't actually glowing but her fingernails did have that suspiciously clear look. "I am?"

_ Would I lie to you? _ The girl was surprised by that into a traitor giggle, old joke, first joke ever. Aura curled her fingers into the edge of the rough concrete support and found herself rocking, resentment fighting against the tacit offer of support from her best friend, her only real friend in the whole world.  _ You weren't listening to a thing Diego said, but that's besides the point. Neither of you are going to die from being idiots to each other. _   Aura clenched her teeth as resentment won.  _ You've been having nightmares you can't remember ever since you had the bad taste to See something where somebody could hear you, and I can't help you when you won't even think about it. Not to mention we may have more important problems. Shimmerfall's worried. _

"Worried about what? I thought you Kheldians just floated through everything."

There was the sense of evasion again, so common whenever the subject of Mercy's warshade boyfriend came up.  _ There's... never mind. You won't be listening to a single thing I say either. Head's up, look left. _

Aura glanced over. The double vision settled in like a pair of goggles and the nausea made her gag unexpectedly. The figure just starting to climb the spanning curve of the bridge wavered in and out of vision. She squinted, trying to bring the figure into focus. When it did, she blanched.

"Mercy! How could you!"

_ Easily. You didn't even notice me making the call, did you? _

Diego strode purposefully towards her position, his bare arms brown in the sun. There was no faltering or surprise in his posture to see her sitting there, which means Mercy really had done what she'd just said; taken over the body during her distraction and told him where they... she was. Aura felt the betrayal like a cold, indignant fist in her gut.

"I'm never going to forgive you for this," she hissed between her teeth.

_ There are more important things than your forgiveness, Aura. _ There was remote anger coupled with crisp authority in the words.  _ I can't have you distracted by all this. Get it sorted out. _ There was a pause, then;  _ You do not want me to sort it out for you. _

"Mercy!" she hissed again, frantic. Diego was almost in earshot.

_ Try apologising. And listening. If you need me, I'll be close enough to hear but otherwise, you're on your own, Luna _ . With that parting shot, Aura felt Mercy withdrawing, pulling their awareness of each other farther and farther apart until it was only a tenuous, frightening thread. She gulped and hastily looked down. It wasn't a moment too soon either as a shadow fell over her shoulder. Her skin prickled with the memory of anger and the less appealing realisation of just how rude she'd been. He sat down and she could feel the warmth of his skin radiating between them.

The silence dragged on. And on. He didn't say anything, didn't move, didn't do anything but just sit there, taking up space and air. Eventually she couldn't take it anymore.

"I really don't like you right now, you know. You had no reason to say any of that." The argument ran through her head like a movie on fast forward and the biggest injustice stuck out. " _ Especially _ the stuff I didn't understand."

She saw his chest rise and fall out of the corner of her eye. "I have reasons," he replied finally. "And es many can no understand me. Why should you be different?" In another mood she might have heard the self-deprecation. She bristled instead.

"Somebody decides they like me, and somehow it's my fault that nobody understands  _ you _ ?" She clamped her jaw down on the fact that he'd never bothered to pay attention to what she'd been doing before or who she'd been doing it with. Just dumb, silly Aura, doing dumb, silly Aura things and he'd never even so much as blinked in her direction before a few weeks ago. She could have been kissing chickens and he wouldn't have noticed.

"I can't let you walk into danger and say nothing.  I can't let you risk yourself and do nothing." He was being calm, reasonable, his profile clean against the backdrop of distant buildings. He was looking down at the water instead of at her and that infuriated her all over again.

"Danger? Risk? On a  _ dance floor _ ? Did you think I was going to twist my ankle?" She snorted, trying to remember exactly how Bethany did it. "I'm a way better dancer than that."

Diego's voice was flat. "He es hiding something.  Something ugly."

It sounded so much like what Alex had said that she could have screamed. "So? What if he is? I'm not going to marry him, Diego." Her teeth snapped shut with an audible click, a heartbeat too late.

Out of the corner of her eye he swallowed, tension curving like sudden bronze over his shoulder. It skirled through the air between them, something that she desperately tried to ignore, not wanting anything to do with it. No. Oh, no, she wasn't, she wasn't  _ ever _ . Erase, start again. "I just ... wanted to have a good time. What's wrong with that?"

"Es nothing wrong with  _ that _ .  But I..." Diego paused, and never finished whatever he was going to say. He stared down into the blackness below instead, the line of his jaw tight. "Anyway.  I can no esstop you do what you want.  But know what you es getting into.  No have to walk blind."

Aura tried laughing but it came out a little too strangled to serve. "He's handsome and romantic and just like somebody in a novel, and I happen to  _ like _ that." She felt the rough pour of the concrete digging into the pads of her fingers. "So does Mieri, I bet - and for the record, he probably does kiss like a panther." She threw it out there like a barbed hook.

He winced as it scored. It made her feel petty and mean and vindicated somehow. But his voice stayed reasonable, if rough. "He es like candy-coated poison.  You es better than him."

"That's awfully melodramatic. And I am not better than anything. I'm just Aura, remember? I'm not anything special."

"Just because es melodrama no mean es untrue." He turned his head then and she was caught unexpectedly in his brown eyes. "And Aura? You es very especial."

Aura wrenched her gaze away and stared down at the water, fuming. Special, sure. Special in the one way that  _ he _ wanted, special only because of the one thing she could do, like she was some sort of walking party trick. Special because of something she was going to be, not something she  _ was _ . She blinked away tears she couldn't explain to herself.

"It's my ch... choice if I want to take candy-poison, then. You're not my big brother, you know." Or anything else, but she couldn't get the words out.

She felt him sigh, his body balanced lightly beside her. Always graceful, even when he wasn't moving. She felt small and grubby. "No.  Not really.  I no even know what that es like; I was youngest brother, and I never have sister. But I esstill no want see something bad happen to you."

She ground her teeth together, like it was going to help. It didn't last. "Like what? You are so stuck in the 16th century sometimes! You're acting like Spyros is going to kidnap me or tie me up or.. or something horrible. And that stuff only happens in the movies, really. Nothing bad is going to happen to me in the middle of a dance floor. I am not under some sort of spooky alien telepathy, like Joni thinks." He blinked at her and she ducked her head. "Wow, that is so dumb, just saying it."

"Something bad could happen," he said quietly. She felt him lean closer as if proximity would make the argument more convincing. Stray sunlight glinted off the mesh of his shirt as he shifted. "That es what I es trying tell you.  I no know what, or if es even  _ going _ to happen.  But something bad can happen, because es something bad y ugly he es hiding." She could feel him staring down at the top of her head and she hunched her shoulders. "I no want anything bad happen to you, Aura." She opened her mouth. "And, if something did?  Then you would see me get like century 16." His voice was grim with undercurrents of something older and scarier. "Noble of España in that day no took such things lightly."

Aura closed her mouth as the tiny, platinum bleached hairs on her arm rose up. It was not a comfortable feeling. She cast around for something to say, anything at all.

"I can handle myself." It came out weak but she kept going. "And I will kiss whoever I want, whenever I want, for any reason I want, including just because I want to." She asserted what she knew, desperately pushing the words out like thorns to drive him back. "You don't have a say in it. You are not my big brother and you aren't anything else." The words  _ not yet _ hung in the air.

If he heard them, he didn't acknowledge them either. "Esta bien.  I hope you es right, y nothing happen. I es be there either way." He shrugged. "I may no be a Mercy, but I es can come in handy now and again."

Mercy. Shimmerfall. Aura blinked, feeling a shiver of something strange crawl down her bones. For a moment her vision wavered but she shook her head and it went away. She clutched at the support under her hands, wanting the reassurance of solidity. What had he said? "You don't... you don't have to be here for anything at all and I sure don't need your help. And if I did... I'd ask." She wrinkled her nose. "Maybe I'll get lucky and get kidnapped like in one of those books Sister Salvation likes to read and you can rescue me and feel good about everything. I bet you'd like that just fine."

His face twisted. "That es no funny.  And I....I es no interest en be esslave to some esscript.  No choose anything ever.  I just can no ignore duty."

"That's not true." The response was automatic, rapid-fire. "You choose every moment." She believed in it. Didn't she?

"Do I?  Or I just think I do?" His reply was equally fast, just as practiced.

"Every day, Diego, you choose. You can ignore anything, every .. every mind you have, everything is yours to .. to not care about. People do, you know. Stop caring." She glared at him finally, feeling suddenly sure of herself. "You always act like destiny is locked into your bones and it's  _ not. _ You're not some sort of slave, gosh. Fall off the bridge and drown yourself. You can if you want to." She bit her lip on the rest of it, which offered to push him off herself. Some of her was horrified for even thinking it, but there was another part giggling at the mental image. Diego, windmilling all the way down to the water. Spyros turning up at the funeral with... white roses?

He had no idea, his voice turning remote even as his expression hardened. "I es afraid, Aura.  I say, I have to do duty.  I say, I can no fail.  I say I must do this.  I say it, because I es terrify of what happen if I do not."

"Nothing would happen." She felt smug for a second. "That's what scares you, isn't it? That nothing would happen and it would mean nothing mattered and that's a really horrible, frightening thing."

"Oh, oh no, niña.  Something will happen." He looked down at her, his expression disapproving. The sun cast a halo of gold around his hair. "Es too late now.  I have wear mask.  To get mask off, I es become Knight. So when I die...my soul es join those of other Diestros.  I fail, es no just, I will have fail family.  Lose legacy.  Be deny heritage.  In death, I will be with other Diestros, and they will  _ know _ I have fail them, when they all succeed." He smiled, but it was no smile at all. "I will be failure, with my soul trap with those who depended on me to succeed."

She must have made some startled sound. Diego turned away, almost as if he couldn't bear to look at her face.

"I have never tell anyone that."

Listen.

Was this what Mercy had been trying to say? She felt the confession of it sinking down and through and into her. Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed and swallowed again the horrible silence behind it.

How could you live like that, that fate over your head?  How could Diego....

Duty.

Aura knotted her fingers in her lap. She felt very small and very, very petty. Her entire argument, based on frightened anger, crumbled like ash and fell into the water below. She didn't want to help Diego, but for what reason? She didn't believe? She didn't want to be  _ wrong _ ? She wanted to be valued for who she was, not what? When  _ what _ she was, was what he needed?

It hurt. It hurt so much. She stared at her hands.

He shifted beside her. "Essorry, Aura," he mumured. "I no want make you feel bad for me. Es not so terrible a thing."

"My mom," she started softly, not daring to look up in case he realised she was close to tears with unexpected, bell-struck empathy, "always tells me that what you do, what you give, comes back to you three times. That's why I always try to be happy because I want that to come back to me. I don't have duty. I'm just Aura, nobody has ever..." She stopped and started again, trying to feel her way through the maze of words. "I don't want to be your duty, Diego. I just don't." She took a deep breath. She was not afraid. She was not afraid. "But I don't want this to come back to me three times, threefold, not for something I can... I can give. Something I can do."

Could she? She sat there paralyzed, thinking of how many ways she couldn't help. She wasn't strong like Sam, or fast like Vesper, or determined like Carla. She didn't even know how she did what she did. If she did anything at all. But she forced the rest of it out through stiff lips.

"I didn't really mean it when I said I wouldn't See for you, and you don't have to see me first. You don't even have to like me if you don't want to." It felt like any moment she was going to fall off the bridge and she leaned back, frightened of the vertigo. "I'll help you," she whispered finally. "I'll try my best."

"No." His voice had an odd timbre, although what he was negating she wasn't sure of. "I do like seeing you, Aura.  Just because I no.....es no like I don't think....you es very...." Diego stumbled. "Ay, I no es very good with word."

She looked up. His expression was so strange, impossible to define. Hope, maybe? Triumph? Uncertainty, for sure. Fear? She wasn't about to vanish although some part of her felt like she was about to do just that. Her heart was beating against its cage of bone like a trapped bird. She had no idea what she'd just promised.

"It's okay," she said, struggling for dignity. "You don't have to try and explain."

"I no want you misunderstand.  I do like when you es around.  Es....brighter." He ran a hand through his hair. "Y no just literally."

She smiled, felt it curve around her mouth like something she'd half-forgotten. "My mom says good energy comes back three times too."

"Bueno," he said, his hand moving out, half raised towards her. To touch? "Then I es one of them, and I would no like you esstay away. Aura..." She heard breath being sucked in, felt his resolve crystallising like a cage around them both. "Adivina, I es have be able to trust you en total. You can no tell anyone else things I tell you.  Like...like just now...what I say...."

"Not even Mercy?" So what if she said it softly? It went up into the air like a shout.

His hand lowered and a grimace crossed his face. For the first time she noticed a scar next to his eye, shaped like a tiny star. Some part of her wanted to reach out and touch it. She clenched her fist in her lap. "I esstill know nothing of Mercy, really....if es impossible keep from her, and she will no keep secret?"

"I trust her," she said simply. Honesty gave her the rest.  "But I don't expect you to."

"I want be able tell you things I no can share with anyone else, Aura; I trust you." The emphasis was unmistakable. "But I can no do that if es others going to hear."

She nodded jerkily. A car rumbled by on the deck above, shaking the beams and she was suddenly aware again of the sound of the waves and the cry of distant seagulls. She shuddered and didn't know why.

"It's not easy," she replied finally. Her mouth was dry. "But Mercy doesn't have to know anything. We can... not be together, when I'm with you." She felt naked then, inexplicable fear tangling under her tongue. It was possible, sure. Mercy had done it once, angry beyond reason, leaving her stranded at the top of a building for hours. She could do the same back, she was sure she could do the same. 

And while she was with Diego, she would be only Aura in truth. Even now, Mercy could still hear her if something terrible were to happen; hear and swarm back full of light and protection.

She smiled though, and nodded. "It's not easy," she repeated helplessly. "But I'll explain it." Somehow. "I can do that - for you."

"Gracias," he said. He did reach out then and took her hand from her lap. Surprised, she let him. His thumb rested dark over her wrist. She could feel the callus at the tip.

"I pledge esswords, I pledge service, kind unto kind,  _ donec mors tuus sum _ ."

"Wh... what?"

"This es no essmall thing you do. I can do no less. Pledge es way Diestro dedicates to cause. That es pledge of service for service; I es you sword en any task you need."

Aura flushed. "Oh. Wow." She stared down at her white hand in the loose clasp of his like it belonged to somebody else. "If I accept, does this mean I can make you scale a mountain to slay something?"

"Diestro es serve Aura la Adivina en equal measure she aid Diestro.  You cause es my cause, beside you en adversity, in front of trouble.  Call, y I es ready to esslay." He grinned then, small and white. "I es probably use magic boots to jump up mountain, though."

She couldn't have helped herself if she'd tried. She giggled and the frisson of the moment cracked, if not broke.

"Okay. Alright. I accept .. your pledge. As I help you, you help me. And I won't tell anybody. But you have to promise, you can't be a real dragon about things."

"Esta bien," he said, still with the grin on his face. Then he did the next surprising thing. He leaned down and she watched with ghost fascination as her fingers rose in his. His lips brushed the back of her hand. "Trato hecho, Doña."

What do you say to something like that? She told herself her hand wasn't tingling. She told herself it didn't mean anything, at least, not anything like she wanted it to mean. What did she want it to mean?

She snatched her hand back and stared at him. Gold and brown and bronze and a faint scent of sweat, Diego without a mask. No. She had no idea what she was seeing, but suddenly she couldn't breathe for it. She scrambled in confusion to her feet. He rose uncertainly beside her and he was just too close, too warm, too tall... too everything.

Aura stammered something out and bolted. It was the only thing she could think of to do.


	16. Kiss

Her fingers curled half possessively into the deep silk of his shirt. It was like touching water, it was so smooth beneath her hands with the warmth of his skin beating through. 

It might not have been exactly forbidden. She might have said she was free to do as she pleased. There might even have been no one else there to care what she did or did not do. 

Still, even as his dark head bent down, she squirmed with the scared excitement of it all. Her lips parted with expectation a heartbeat before his mouth descended and cut off all thought of anything else. 

Oh.


	17. Nightmare

The grass is dangerously cool under her knees, the individual blades pricking at her skin. The comforting bulk of stone and mortar, glass and brick surrounds her, the walls of the school curving like wings around the place where she crouches.

She turns over another card but it's still blank. They're all blank, every one of them in a drift of white around her. She flips another and then another but there are no answers, only frantic questions. She bites her lip, rocking back on her heels. 

Something is coming. She can feel it pressing against the stone circle, searching for a way in. She has to find it before it finds her, finds them, before it discovers the terrible weakness at the heart of everything. She's near crying with terrified frustration. Why can't she See it? She needs to know. She has save him. She fumbles for another card. 

"No!" 

A slim hand tears the deck out of her fingers, scattering the cards to the verdant ground. She jerks her head up with shock.

Her mother glares down, angry as she never is, her cat eyes fierce with rage and disappointment. "No, Aura!" 

"I have to! I  _ promised _ !" 

A gust of sudden wind sets the dark hair under the kerchief to dancing and the tiny silver bells tied to the ends chime with confusion. Her mother's dark eyes, so different from her own, are nearly as black as the stormclouds. "Aura, don't Look!" 

Stormclouds? She looks up and the sky is racing with darkness, the scudding pressure converging on where she is. Much, much too high for any wall to block out. Scared, she turns back but her mother is gone, a single point of accusing flame in the distance. The bells sound a wild carillon. 

Her breath catches in her throat as she realises the cards have arranged themselves in a perfect circle around her like teeth. The ice cold wind whips her hair against her mouth.

She can feel it moving then beneath her legs, spreading through the ground like a stain. It couldn't get through the walls so it's gone underneath and even as she crouches with fear, darkness starts to bubble up, eclipsing the white, staring faces. 

She scrambles to her feet and runs for the rock, the one with the sleeping dragon, the one that should never be woken. It's a boulder, then a hill, a mountain but it doesn't matter, it's sanctuary and she sobs as she climbs, digging her fingers into the crumbling dirt. She looks over her shoulder. There's nothing else now, only the mountain, the storm and the black, unnamed hunger. No wings, no walls. She can feel the hesitation but then the darkness undulates like a snake and starts to flow upwards. Chasing. 

Panting at the top, she looks up in desperation. A single star shines down from the high darkness, a pinpoint of cold awareness like an eye. She frames the wish like she's six and wishes still matter. Starlight, starbright. 

She screams as the darkness kisses her fingertips.

\-----------------------

She's upright in bed, clutching the bedcovers. She's still asleep but doesn't know it, her body strung tight enough to break into pieces. Gradually her eyes flutter open and she stares in confusion at the patchwork wall.

_...aura? _

She hiccups then, and rubs an eye.

"Yes?" she whispers. It's too late to talk out loud.

There's no answer. She watches the moonlight pattern itself through the room for a minute but nothing happens. Eventually she shivers and burrows back down under the bedcovers. It's really much too cold to be anywhere that isn't warm. Whatever Mercy wanted, it can wait til morning.

In three minutes, she's asleep again.


	18. Bell, No Book, And A Spider

It started off with a spider. 

It wasn't even a big spider, like one twelve feet tall with laser refraction weaponry and cutting edge alloys at the joints. The kind of spider that would have tested his skills to the utmost, would have given the ever-watchful Diestros a chance to dissect his continued refinement of both technique and form. It wasn't even a six foot tall man in a spider uniform which, if less awe-inspiring, would still have given rise to its own set of challenges. 

No, this spider was about a quarter inch high, intent on it's own spider business and utterly unaware of the snowball effect it would have on his life. 

It had seemed a simple thing. The spider had menaced three of the junior girls from the safety of a second floor windowsill during what was their biology class, a fact which only occurred to him as funny in retrospect. He'd walked in for his chemistry lab which was after theirs and Aura had all but dragged him across the room, her blue eyes pleading. The spider was in imminent danger of a squashing since somebody, he never caught who, was apparently deathly afraid of spiders and was coming back to Fix The Problem with a can of hairspray. 

What was he supposed to do? It wasn't a dragon but those were few and far between these days. 

So he'd carefully held the spider inside cupped hands as he'd crossed the crowded hallway, down the flight of stairs and out the side door with Aura hovering anxiously at his shoulder. She'd needed to pick the appropriately green leaf with which to set the arachnid free so he'd waited patiently with the tickle trying to escape. By the time he'd gotten back upstairs to the lab he'd been late, earning a demerit, but it had seemed a fair trade. She'd smiled with gratitude; he'd pinned it to his memory along with the others. 

But it didn't stop with the spider. 

The first time the hinge on her locker had stuck, he'd thought nothing of it. He was taller; it was a matter of moments to unjam it and he'd been rewarded again with one of those paralysingly bright smiles. By the third time in a week however, he'd been somewhat more suspicious about how often things seemed to stop functioning in Aura's presence. Then it rained one day and froze that night so the next morning the sidewalks had been slippery as Catholic sin, even with the sprinkled salt. A frantic message had him at the main door to the girls' dorms in fifteen minutes and he'd tried hard not to look at anybody as he shepherded her across to the main wing, her light weight clinging to his arm. 

Then she'd forgotten a book in the library, could he go get it? Her bed in the quad had a wobbly leg, could he come hold it up while she tried to figure out what the problem was? That had been interesting, with only her legs sticking out from underneath as she'd squirmed along the floor. He'd done his best not to drop the heavy frame on her head but his shoulders had cried out with the awkward position by the time she'd triumphantly re-emerged. Then she'd lost her favorite hairband somewhere between second and third period, could he come help her search the hallways? 

He'd done his best to ignore the not-quite-out-of-earshot comments as what had became obvious to him became obvious to everyone else. He didn't deign to take notice because once he'd figured out what was going on, it didn't really matter what the others assumed. Hadn't he said he was at her service? He'd told himself to be patient. There was only so much she could ask him to do, right? And he didn't really mind having a little white-haired shadow appear out of nowhere a couple of times a week, wanting something that usually turned out only to be his attention. It was even sort of comforting. 

Or at least that's what he told himself, down on one knee and doing his best not to sneeze as he tried to fish out a necklace which had magically gotten jammed behind a radiator. 

Finally there was a space of two whole days where she hadn't bothered him at all. He'd breathed a sigh of relief, the muscles of his arms pleased with the respite. The way things had been going, he'd started to wonder if the next thing would require him to learn how to balance on stilts. But then two stretched into three and then into four and he'd started to worry. He caught sight of her a few times in the hallways and she seemed much as always. Still, how did one ask? He didn't know how to approach it. Had she decided that she'd tested him and his resolve enough, had he finally answered the unspoken question beneath each small action he'd performed? Had she then accepted his service as something that was her due? 

Or had she just forgotten? He wouldn't put it past her. 

So when four days became a week, concern hardened and he determined to find out. His service was tied to her aid and it went in both directions. 

Still, he hadn't meant to frighten her by appearing at the quad without notice in the afternoon. But the door had been open and his knock apparently unheard as he'd tentatively entered. The entire dorm room had been turned topsy turvy it seemed, spring cleaning gone wildly awry. Her hair had been tied up on top of her head, wound over and through with a strip of cloth and it also had stuck out in every direction. She'd looked like a tiny white Christmas tree from the back, albeit a dusty one. He'd truly been about to clear his throat to get her attention but she'd turned without warning and vaunted reflexes or not, nothing could have prevented the nose to chest collision.  

He'd spent what felt like forever being lectured. It didn't matter that he'd been raised to greet both archbishops and dukes with the proper forms of address and inflection, knew to a nuance how much to bow or when to kneel to the Pope. Apparently he'd been raised by wolves, there was no question. And at the end of it he'd walked away with a bell knotted to the back of his hair with a fragment of purple string, not even quite sure how it had happened. 

A luck charm from a Seer was too great a boon to disregard, no matter the manner with which it had been bestowed or at what volume. Still, how was he expected to be able to fight with this? He'd spent countless hours learning silence. Now every motion chimed in his ear. 

He was halfway across the main quad, altering his stride by turns, trying to figure out how he could walk and not jingle like a warhorse, wondering if muffling the little clapper was allowed, wondering if that would somehow interfere with the hex and earn him another lecture, wondering just how likely it was that the tiny noise would betray him at the worst possible time, wondering if it looked as silly as it felt - before he remembered he'd never had his question answered. 

He'd hesitated but then had kept walking. Going back didn't really seem to be his best option. 

He told himself he'd try again later. 


	19. Purification

The sun hadn't quite cleared the trees yet in her little kingdom, so the grass was uncomfortably damp as she settled to the ground. Aura made a face as the cold immediately soaked into her jeans. The ghosts of all the Christmas' ever past had really,  _ really _ better appreciate this.

She didn't even know why she'd agreed to it. Well, actually, she did. She'd been browbeaten. Coerced. Shanghaied. _ Press ganged _ . A bunch of other words that meant that this wasn't something she did for just anybody, you know. Especially not dead anybodies with more questions than brains. She liked that image so much that she sat there for a few minutes, soaking up both dew and self-righteousness. It would serve them right if she had gone to Rasa's Ricksaw  & Rockets Emporium and picked up wards for three dollars a half dozen. Those ones even came inscribed with arcane symbols on the sides done in cheap silver gilt which scratched off if you used your fingernail.

Except as annoying as they were, they hadn't asked for protection for themselves because she'd have given them plastic snap-together jewelry if they'd so much as dared. No, they had to insist on behalf of Diego. And as unsettled as they'd made her with their cadences from other centuries, she wouldn't let Diego down. Not for all the tea in China.

So here she was, a pebble digging into her tailbone, nobly and virtuously ignoring the fact that he'd already managed to ask her three times this week when the wards might be ready. As if protection rings just magically appeared out of nowhere like genie's wish, poof, just like that. Just what sort of baby beginner did they think she  _ was _ ? Or worse, what kind of half-baked wards had they been used to? 

She rummaged through the battered Hello Kitty backpack, pulling out the ingredients for the ritual. First, the tupperware container of water. She'd gotten that from the font in the empty church since she didn't really think Father Montoya or any watching angels would mind. Besides, wasn't water from churches technically supposed to be holy just by proximity? She carefully popped the lid so she didn't spill anything and, with a glance at the sky, settled it to the west. 

Second to come out was the small brown paper bag of dirt. That had been a little trickier to get since technically nobody was allowed onto the grounds of the cloister upon pain of detention until you died, but still, she'd managed by being awfully fast and sneaky. She probably could have just visited a graveyard but something had told her that wasn't what she wanted. She always trusted her feelings when it came to setting these things up.  The energies had to be right for everything to work to its full potential and if getting the ground walked on by creepy nuns was what the ritual wanted, well... she hadn't gotten caught, that was the main thing. 

She put the double handful of sanctified earth to the north, tearing the paper bag down the seams to expose the small mound. She chewed her lip and checked the sun again. She moved the bag a few inches over until she was satisfied. 

The next thing was the stubby red candle. Actually, it was a stick of mostly melted sealing wax but for this it was perfect because the color would stay true, no matter how much more she burned. She'd definitely learned her lesson with the black jiffy marker experiment. She poked a finger at the ground at the south corner of her imaginary compass, scraping a little indentation to settle the misshapen blob in. She packed the earth around the edges so it wouldn't list too much, scrubbing the dirt off on her thigh afterwards. 

The second to last thing she carefully removed from the plastic baggie since she didn't want to crush it any more than she already had. Standing in Montgomery's Cupboard yesterday, she hadn't been able to decide on the desert sage or white sage sprigs, sniffing first one, then the other so much that she'd gotten woozy. Finally she'd just taken a couple of each, since if she'd stayed there much longer trying to figure out which was stronger, the guy behind the counter would have probably thought she was trying to get high. 

She balanced the dried plants on her knee, leaning forward at the waist to tease a corner of the brown paper bag away from the north element. That went on the ground to the east and she broke the sage into careful pieces on top, ready to burn. 

Aura checked everything again, her fingers dancing quickly over the elements as if counting. Water, fire, earth, air and the cardinal points to direct the energy. She could feel it building under her hands already, the slight upward pressure that said this was right, this was correct, this was what needed to happen. She pulled the lighter from her pocket and put it front where she could reach it easily when the time was right. 

Then she pulled the second paper bag from the pack, taking a deep breath. 

This had taken most of the money she'd saved up to go to the movies with. She could have gotten them cheaper from her mom's store because she had an amazing staff discount there, but that would have required a really big explanation of why she'd needed so many. She certainly didn't want to mess up by starting off with a really big lie either. So even if the guy at Montgomery's thought she was some sort of sage addict, he'd still wrapped up the eclectic mix without demanding to know why she needed so many protection stones. 

She awkwardly juggled the bag, pouring the handful into her left hand. She'd handled them last night so they'd get used to her but hadn't spent a lot of time since most of the work was going to happen today. There was no point infusing energy when it was just going to be wiped clean again. She checked the filtered light again, trying to figure out how long before the sun would clear the trees. Maybe an hour. 

Aura settled more firmly then, grounding herself automatically to the center of the world. The rush of connection was soft this time, a brush of a feather along her spine. She wasn't cold, she wasn't annoyed at having to be up this early on a Saturday, she wasn't missing the movie she wouldn't have a chance to see now. Her eyes fluttered closed, lashes brushing her cheeks. She wasn't proud of her skills, she wasn't out to make the ghosts eat their words, she was... just the conduit. 

Breathe. 

Protection. Strength. Intuition against the unseen. Warning against the unknown. All of these things, she needed. She contemplated each of the things she wanted here at the beginning, considering balance above all. After a while her left hand twitched as the stones grew heavier than they had, which was good. She moved past it and meditated, her face uptilted and quiet.  

When she opened her eyes, they were blank and dreamy. With her right hand she picked up the lighter and sparked the candle to life. She moved her hand and set the paper under the sage alight. She watched the tiny flame lick out to consume the easy tinder until finally the small dried leaves caught. She blew it out then, careful not to scatter the pieces. It smouldered fragrantly and she breathed it in, hy p erconscious of the smell. 

Unhurriedly Aura picked up the first stone between forefinger and thumb and buried it in the tiny bit of earth, thinking of the immense strength beneath her. She waited a moment, then picked it up and passed it through the candleflame three times, thinking hard of purification. She held it then over the wisping smoke, letting the air curl over and around, concentrating of clarity, the ability to see beyond. And then she dropped it into the little bowl of water. 

One by one she cleansed each bead of any influence not her own;  black, red, silver, gold, plinking them into the plastic container until all the colors glimmered at the bottom. When she finished the sun had cleared the top of the trees so she'd timed it pretty well. Her left hand was a little cramped so she wiggled her fingers as she blew out the candle, dousing the sage by dumping the earth on it and patting it down. The leftover wax went back into her pack. Finally she stood, stomping her feet and stretching. Her butt felt numb and she sucked on her slightly scorched fingertips. 

Stage one, complete. She'd come back in the afternoon after the stones had absorbed the purity of the water and more strength from the sun. By that point, she should be able to charge them until they quivered. 

Aura bounced on her heels, suddenly very pleased with herself. She wasn't a baby, not with this. These wards would be the tightest she'd ever made, she could feel it already.  If anything fooled with Diego, she was pretty sure she'd be able to tell just by being close to them. If not, she'd  _ definitely  _ know by touching them. 

And she knew just how to make sure he never forgot and left them behind.


	20. Waiter du Jour

For not the first time in her life, Aura really wished she was taller. Even an inch would be great. Two would be better and six would be the best present like ever, anywhere. Maybe next year those hormones that got talked about during sex ed class would finally kick in and she'd sprout up to a stately and graceful 5'8" instead of being stuck at this dumpy 5'2" where she couldn't see anything in a crowd except collarbones.

She bounced on her heels but it didn't help any. She was still stalled at the back of the line and she couldn't see if Diego was inside. What with him dating Joni, sort of, and apparently hanging out with Beth when he wasn't with Joni, kind of, she'd finally given up trying to find him after school and decided to just tackle him during lunch. Everybody had to have lunch, right?

Problem was, the chalkboard said Madam Lasinforte had done up some kind of pumpkin goulash and that actually sounded kind of interesting, only everybody else seemed to have had the same idea. Consequently the shuffle of students was right to the double doors. 

Aura slumped down as she stopped trying to pretend to see to the front of line. She'd have to take her goulash chances with everyone else. Maybe she could spot him at a table. 

Behind her, Simon and Tracey were still trying to play a game of cat's cradle with the webbing. Tracey was pretty sure she'd found something that wouldn't stick when she extruded it, but it wasn't quite working as advertised. It wasn't so much a game anymore as a helpless struggle to get their fingers apart. 

Simon bumped into her as a vigorous tug pulled him off balance, shoving Aura into the boy in front of her. 

"Hey, watch it!" 

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Aura apologised ahead to the collarbone then hissed at Simon. "Would you stop it? Gosh, you guys. Cut it out already." 

"Not my fault, don't have a seizure." Simon grinned at her from under the blonde cowlick. "Tracey's kidnapping me to eat, or maybe mate with." 

Tracey snorted, still trying to unwrap her hands from the tacky strings. "Would you quit moving, three eyes? Or I'll web you to the wall and you can worry about which it's gonna be."

Aura half glared at both of them, careful to stay out of range since she really didn't need to get stuck too, like last time. "Nobody wants to mate with you, Simon. Why didn't you just look ahead and figure out it wasn't going to work this time either?" Simon just shrugged at her.

"Where's the fun in that? Besides, precog's more interesting when you try and mess it up anyways."

Tracey twisted her hand and was suddenly free of the entangled mess. "Hah! Got it. Give me a minute."

Aura hastily looked away. She liked Tracey plenty, she was a great friend, but it still made her queasy to watch some of the stuff she did. But as she stared mutely across the room, a shock of brown hair shifted into view. She knew the precise set of those shoulders, even under the black school blazer. She smiled with sudden triumph.

"Bye, you guys! I'll save you a seat, okay?" she threw over her shoulder, skipping out of the line.

 

\--------------------------------------------

 

From the door, it was chaos. 

Like always. 

She bounced on her toes but it didn't help any. She was still short and it was almost impossible to see anything but a wall of backs and shoulders from her position at the end of the line. According to the chalkboard outside the double doors, Madam Lasinfore was serving pumpkin goulash today and it felt like the entire school had turned up, probably out of morbid curiosity, to see what that actually was. 

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. What with him dating Joni, sort of, and apparently hanging out with Bethany when he wasn't with Joni, kind of, she'd given up on trying to find him after school and had decided to just tackle him during lunch. Everybody had to have lunch, right? Only she hadn't counted on it being so busy and not being able to see anything. Maybe next year those hormones that got talked about during sex ed class would finally kick in and she'd sprout up to a stately and graceful height and she could be an elf queen. Not that that was going to help her now. 

She shifted, trying to spot a certain color of bronze somewhere ahead of her. The little bag tucked into the waistband of her skirt chose that moment to dig into her hip with a vengeance. She wiggled, trying to resettle it. She probably looked like she had to go to the washroom but there was no helping it. She certainly didn't dare leave them laying around  but they were uncomfortable as anything, both physically and psychically. 

She'd tried hanging the insulating silk on a string around her neck, but the wards were so bulky it'd looked like she'd grown a third breast. Even in this school, that was worth commenting on and after spending most of a morning in a permanent state of blush, she'd found a better place for them. So what if she was bruising like that story about the princess and the pea? 

How come she could never find the one thing she needed when she really needed it? Not socks, not her favorite scarf, and apparently not certain boys who should know better than to go missing without warning her first.  

Aura narrowed her eyes and considered her options. If he wasn't in the cafeteria, she'd try the library. And then his dorm  _ again _ . And then she'd try the office one more time and see if Gemini would please and thank you let her know his next class, even if that wasn't really allowed. This time she'd be convincing as anything. Maybe she could fake a heart attack? That might buy her a few minutes when they went to call a doctor. 

Aura told her karma it was for a good cause and pushed her way through into the room, squirming through the gaps in the line. 

There. Murphy was obviously taking a short break because she spotted him almost immediately. The precise set of shoulders under the black school blazer and the tilt of his head was unmistakable. She grabbed a tray from the stack and a moment later she was at Diego's elbow. She smiled as he looked down in surprise. 

"Hi! Hello! Can I cut into line with you? I'm  _ starving _ ." 

"Eh? Ah, certainly, Reiña." Obligingly Diego shifted and she slipped in front. 

"Hey! No buttinskis!" 

Aura ignored the protest from somewhere further down the line, clattering her tray on the rail. She wasn't butting in. She really needed to talk to Diego so it was perfectly all right. She reached across and grabbed a mandarin orange from the nearest basket. 

"You're so impossible. I've been looking for you everywhere, you know," she started. 

"Ah... sí?" 

She thought about it and decided that crackers probably went with goulash just fine so she added four packets of them. Oh, and chocolate milk. 

"Gosh, yes. I even got desperate and went to your dorm a couple times but Brandon said you were out and I didn't want to just hang around in case somebody thought I was waiting for you. Diego, can you get me the chocolate milk, please?" She pointed. 

"You no want anyone.... when was this, Reiña?" He reached past her and she had a great view of black sleeve for a minute as he grabbed the small carton, depositing it on her tray. "I no remember seeing you." 

"A few days ago, I don't know. It doesn't matter, I've just been looking for you and you've been very and utterly nowhere. It's been like trying to get the west wind to stay still! Don't you ever just stop somewhere and just breathe for awhile? Where I can find you?" She waffled but then ordered a big bowl of the goulash, sniffing appreciatively as it was handed across the counter. Wow. Who knew pumpkin could smell like that? And it wasn't even orange. Maybe this was a case of false advertising. 

Diego was smiling down at her with that bemused expression.  "I esstop en many places and I always breathe, señorita.  Es I want to know why you es look for me?" He ordered his own bowl, his tray already consisting of things she'd never eat in a million years. 

Aura rubbernecked, trying to look over both shoulders at once. Diego checked his too before turning back quizzically. She went up on tiptoe and he obligingly leaned down. She cupped her hand over his ear. 

"Orfay hetay ordsway," she said softly. Too softly, as Diego jerked up and she saw goosebumps crawl up his neck from the breath in his ear. She watched the shiver, fascinated. Who knew? 

"En verdad?" His gaze sharpened. She nodded happily. 

There was a loud coughing behind them. She stared around Diego's arm and gulped, then skipped along hastily. Wow, holding up the line was grounds for major problems later in the hallway. Diego made some sort of murmured apology for both of them though, so maybe it'd be okay. He herded her easily onto the main floor but it was still a sea of shoulders and collarbones. Impulsively she turned and thrust her tray out. 

"Diego, could you carry my tray, please?" she demanded. He blinked but his hand reached out automatically and took the weight. She watched make sure he wasn't going to spill anything and turned around to survey the room again. That table was half empty but it was cold by the window and that one over there had splinters in the bench and there was just no way she was ever going to sit anywhere near that guy again but that one over there would do just fine. She set her sights and set out at a brisk pace before somebody else got it. 

She wiggled through by the virtue of simply being short. How Diego managed at six foot one with a tray in each hand she never knew. Maybe he gave everyone the evil Spanish eye. Maybe he'd been a five-star waiter in a past life. Either way, he stayed right behind her as if on a chain, striding along obediently while she maneuvered like a demented butterfly towards their final destination.  She stopped triumphantly at the chosen spot, patting the seat. 

"Right here, Diego!" she warbled. She beamed impartially at the other people sitting near them at the trestle. 

He put the trays down and started to slide into the indicated seat. When he realised she wasn't sitting though, he started to stand again but she pushed on his shoulders. 

"No. Down. Sit." 

It seemed to work. His expression was sort of comical though. Hadn't she seen that look on a cartoon character once? Anyways. She fumbled at her waist. 

"I  _ told _ you I'd get this done," she whispered. "You and your dumb ghosts."  He stiffened at that but she didn't notice.  "You have really got to learn patience. This kind of stuff doesn't grow on trees and then I had to carry them around for  _ days _ and I'm going to have a huge bruise now. Hold this." She slid the scrap of lumpy fabric into one of his hands, trying to use the table as cover. He down looked at it and then at her. 

"Do you feel anything?" she asked hopefully. 

"Ah... no? Es I supposed to feel something?" Diego looked worried. Aura sighed and shook her head. 

"No, but I was kind of hoping. Still, they are muffled so I wouldn't worry about it. You'd have to be me to be sensitive to them through that many layers and if you [i]were[/i] me, you wouldn't need them." 

With that cryptic statement, Aura stepped behind him and pushed on the back of his head. He didn't seem to get it for a second but then submitted meekly, looking down. She leaned against his back and ran her hands through his hair, searching for the bell. Her fingers found it quickly enough, knotted behind his ear. She tugged but it was really in there. She sighed and concentrated on picking the knots apart.  

"Reiña, what es you doing?" he said quietly, obviously trying not to be overheard. 

"I'm taking the bell out of your hair." 

He shifted without warning, half turning and a hand rose to entrap her wrist. "No," he said. "Es was....you es gift." 

She stared at him, almost eye to eye. It was a funny feeling with the difference in their heights negated. "Gosh. Don't be dumb. I'm going to give it right back." She tugged her hand free and again pushed on the back of his head. "I'm going to thread this properly, with the wards. Trust me, okay?" 

"I es always trust you, Reiña. But I no like lose such gift." Still, he turned and bent his head again. She went back to picking at the thread. She really must have been mad considering how many knots she'd used. Eventually though it came free along with a few strands of bronze. She shook the chime and smiled at the tiny, sweet sound. For a second, Aura was overwhelmed by the presence of her mother who was always surrounded by the sound of bells. 

Her mother who might not approve of this. Aura shook her head and leaned over Diego's shoulder, taking the wards back. Just a few more minutes and the horrible itching awareness that she'd been carrying around would be over. 

"Okay. This won't take a second. Try not to think of anything for a minute." 

"No think of....eh?" 

"Shhh. Don't talk either." 

"How es I not to...." 

"Heyla, what's going on?" The tall blonde paused near their table with her own tray, pale brows furrowed together with surprise. "What are you doing to Zorro, Firefly?" 

Aura shrank back, her fingers tightening in his hair out of reflex. 

"Hola, Tasi!" She could tell he was smiling just by the sound of his voice. "I es getting tangle en hair, no have get hair cut recent. Es look like pirate hair, sí?" He said it a bit too loudly, pitching his voice to carry a little across the table. He shifted and Aura found herself half shielded by his body, cutting her perception in half with his interposed bulk. How did he know? She didn't care, she just used the cover to think very small. "Aura es help with groom." 

Stasis just continue to stare, her eyebrows crawling up incrementally. "Right. Because pirates have never heard of combs." Stasis suddenly grinned. "I have got to learn to stop asking questions around here. Well, let me know if you need grog to go with your pirate hair, alright? We'll go see if the Rikti are hiding any." She waved and moved away, already concentrating on something else. Aura slumped, breathing a sigh of silent relief. 

"Wow. That was really good lying," she whispered. Diego shrugged beneath her hands. 

"Es something I learn to do when I have to.  I go to Confession later.  Tasi... no always so observant either, which help.  Es better, Aura?" She nodded, guiltily unwinding her fingers from their death grip at the back of his neck. She opened her mouth to apologise. "Now, I am no to think?" 

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Try not to think of anything at all. And don't talk either. I have to set these fast and I can't do that if you're distracting me." She blew out three fast breaths, trying to blow away the prickly feeling. She peered at his hair again, measuring where she wanted to start. 

She unfolded the silk behind his back, unwrapping the many careful layers. She glanced around but nobody seemed to pay them any particular attention. Maybe Diego had hair trouble all the time? Maybe Stasis was right about the asking of questions. 

She'd pre-strung the stones on black waxed cord, holding everything together with a single knot. She undid the longer end and deftly slipped the bell onto the string, knotting it once to hold it snug. The noise maker already had Diego's field sunk into the metal, if lightly, which was a good sign.  

She worked the cord back through the stones so that a double strand kept them secure, triple knotting it back at the top. Then with the tip of her tongue touching the corner of her mouth, Aura sunk her fingers back into Diego's hair and started to weave the black cord back behind his ear. 

"Don't move," she admonished once. "This isn't easy, you know." Still, her fingers flashed back and forth, an intricate and old pattern forming tight against his skull. At the very end, she poked the cord through the weave a few times before knotting it again three times. She tugged on it gently and then harder. It didn't budge but it did pull Diego's head back. She stared at his upside down eyes and smiled. 

"There! All done. And I bet it didn't hurt at all." 

His hand moved to the back of his head to feel the string of stones now half buried under his hair. Aura plopped herself down in the seat and started to peel her orange, trying to get it all off in one piece. It was lucky if you could. 

"Eh, es that all?" He seemed to struggle with words for a moment. "Should there no be some... ah, words, ritual..." His voice trailed off as she wrinkled her nose at him. Sitting down, she was back to looking at his shoulder which seemed somewhat unfair. Still, she couldn't eat standing up. 

"Gosh, what were you expecting? Dead chickens at midnight? Black candles? Oh, a floating chair!" She giggled at the idea. "It's a ward, Diego, not a spell. Don't they teach you anything in ghost school?" 

He frowned at her at that and she wondered if maybe she'd gone overboard. Still, he didn't get mad at her. "Esstill.... " 

"It will bind over time, don't worry. And I knotted it with triples everywhere so it's not going to come loose for anything. Well, if your head comes off, it will too, so try not to do that, okay?" Aura made a sound of disappointment as the orange peel tore. She sighed and stripped the rest, popping a section of juicy sweetness in her mouth. 

"Bind? Over time? Reiña, what es.....what have you do?" 

A hand came down over her wrist again, this time less gently.

 


	21. Heartbeat

 

I love this. 

The back of my neck is sticky with sweat now, hair plastered in thin white ropes to my shoulders. The music is a monster heartbeat. It pounds through everything without remorse and I'm moving to it with everyone else, that's the best part, all of us convulsing together like we're one animal slaved to the heart attack sound. My mouth is full of the smell of leather and salt, too many people, too close together for too long and I swallow it down over and over, panting.  

I don't know the words or the band and it doesn't matter, raise my hands with everyone else and beat out the rhythm with my fists. I love this so much; the beads of perspiration sliding down my bare spine to soak into my jeans, the fact that I can't breathe, the tremble of exhaustion in my legs that tells me I'm having a good time, the best time, the only time in the whole world when there's no space for questions, doubt, confusion. Just motion. Just joy. 

The guy behind me locks an arm around my waist and maybe it's for support or maybe for something else, it never matters. His legs mold to mine and it's like.. like being held in a cradle. We move then, suddenly  _ I _ becomes  _ us _ and we dance, a tiny circle in the middle of all these larger ones, just like a gear interlocking. 

Yes. All of us not an animal but a machine, pushing towards some terrible, unknown purpose. I push back, wanting more contact and his fingers dig into my skin, his chest moving wet against my back. 

I've gone curiously blind with the overhead lights that flare in my eyes, dazzle and dark and dazzle again. I'm dancing for the boy behind me, the girl next to me who's punk haircut looks like frosted icing, enough silver piercings in her face to actually be frightening. I'm not giving up until she does and she knows it and she's grinning wide enough to be a Cheshire tiger, gulping air, the ripped black tshirt showing caramel flesh in flashes. I shake my hair and she rakes her hands through hers, posing. 

Yes, oh yes, please, yes. More. 

The chorus howls up, higher and higher and we scream then as one, hands like a graveyard reaching as if it's something we can all touch. The finale is like nothing else, the growl of guitars like mountains moving, the raw vocals like a broken angel somewhere way up where I can't see. The spotlights nova and everything is freeze framed black and white, stuttering and then it's over and I can't see, can barely think, and I'm so hot suddenly it feels like I'm going to die. 

Maybe I am. I can't tell, blinking in the darkness, lost in the center of suddenly abandoned purpose. I can't find the girl in the tshirt which is too bad but I really need to get out of here before I pass out. Start pushing my way through, suddenly needing out so much more than I wanted in. I twist through the surging waves of people, one little piece trying to escape. 

I don't know. I felt it and I don't even know what it was and at the last it was like I was so  _ close _ , full of something trembling sweet and secret, there in the center of everything. I hit the bathroom, half falling through the doors. 

I splash water on my face, on my hair, run wet hands over my neck. Oh, that feels so good. My eyes in the mirror are black as anything, excited. My mouth looks bruised and I reach up to touch with my fingers. The nails are suspiciously clear and I stare at them in my reflection, fascinated. 

What happens if I find the thing I can feel? Will I nova too? Just like the lights; incandescent, helpless reaction. 

And outside it starts again, thin through the walls but building anyways. There will be darkness and heat and being a part of something too big to comprehend, just one piece of a whirling, changing, spinning whole. I'm already turning away from the mirror to listen, shaking the water away from my fingertips. 

Yes. Oh, yes. 

More.


	22. Moonlight Sonata

She sat bolt upright in bed, breath like a hammer in her throat. 

_...what? _

She blinked a few times. The shadows on the wall crawled forward to see what was going on but then retreated, uninterested. 

_.... what is it? _

"I don't.. I don't know." She tried to catch the end of the dream but it was gone. A mirror? Something white. A phrase of music. Whatever it was, it crawled across her shoulders and hunched her spine. She stared at the top of the bedspread, licking her teeth to try and get rid of the taste. This was just getting too weird. Why couldn't she remember? She never had problems remembering her dreams. 

_ I don't know either _ , Mercy said finally.  _ It's gone again. Do you think you can get back to sleep? _

Aura grabbed her ankles, rocking a little. Fear coated her skin, she could feel her heart racing a mile a minute against her ribcage. Maybe she'd been running in her mind. A glance at the clock said it was way late or maybe just way early which she already knew just by the quality of darkness through the windows. Why couldn't she have this dream just before her alarm went off in the morning? At least that would be helpful. 

Aura shook her head. "Something's wrong. Something just keeps getting more wrong, and I have no idea what it is." The whisper was quiet in the dark room. She glanced guiltily around but nobody appeared ready to start yelling at her for waking them up. The bulky corner of Joni's toaster caught her eye though and she scowled at it. If Joni had a nightmare and sat up, would she knock herself out against the lid and have a really big bruise in the morning? The idea was guiltily compelling. 

The sour taste of unfocused anger mingled with the wooden toothpick feeling from the dream. It really wasn't a pleasant combination. 

_ Okay, if we're not going to go back to sleep, can we at least get a glass of water? _

"I'm not thirsty." 

_ No, I guess not. _ Aura felt Mercy stretching through her awareness, a sensation she'd gotten used to on some level in the last year. Did Mercy sleep too? Or did she go somewhere else? She realised she'd never actually asked. Aura pushed the hair away from her face, suddenly needing to move more than anything else. 

"If we're quiet, we can sit downstairs and watch television?" 

_ Sure. Bring the blanket though. They've probably turned the heat down. _

No sooner said than done. Aura squirmed out of bed and snagged the quilt to tiptoe out. The door snicked closed awfully loud behind her but there wasn't any sleepy protest. She slipped quietly down the stairs, holding her breath past the RA's dorm. She curled up happily on one of the old, battered couches in the common room. A second later she was up again, searching for the remote. Finally snuggled back into the blanket, she turned the old screen on, mashing the mute button so sound wouldn't betray them. It wasn't so bad; a moment later she had it down to a setting which shouldn't get them in trouble and she started randomly scanning up and down looking for something to watch. 

_ That's really catchy _ , Mercy remarked finally.  _ What is it? _

Aura realised that she'd been humming. "Oh? Oh. It's something Spyros sang to me while we danced. It was Latin I think, I don't remember the name." She hummed a little more, trying to catch the melody. "I really liked it." 

_ He kissed your socks off afterwards. You'd probably like it even if it was a jingle from a commercial. _

"Probably!" Aura agreed. "That was just so romantic though, wow. I've never had anybody sing to me just so we'd have something to dance to." Her voice lifted for a few bars then faltered. "It's stuck in my head now though and won't come out." 

_ That happens. _ She felt Mercy rummaging, a mental sensation that felt something like picking things up and putting them back down.  _ It's not Joni's fault, you know. _

The visual of Joni with a goose egg on her forehead flashed in front of her eyes and Aura flinched. "I don't... " 

_ Yes, you do. I have no idea why you're not blaming Diego, though. You were all over that train a couple of weeks ago. _

Aura shifted under the blanket. "Joni's the one who's making big googly eyes at him. Gosh, does she think I don't notice? And every time I want to... " 

_...get his attention, she's right there? They're dating, Aura. You can't have failed to miss that little fact, being that he picked her up two days ago to go out somewhere. You might have had your nose buried in a book at the time, but since I know exactly how much you were paying attention to everything they said at the door, that one doesn't fly without wings. Besides, weren't you the one that pretty much shoved her in his direction? You can't blame her for following through. You've made it clear you'd rather spend your time liplocked to pretty much anybody else. _

"The card was Strength. What was I supposed to do?" Aura clamped her teeth on the unfairness. "Ignore it? Tell her something that wasn't true?" 

_ You gave her the interpretation you wanted her to hear _ . The mind voice was relentless.  _ Why didn't you tell her the other one? And now you're upset because Diego's hanging on her every word instead of paying attention to you anymore. _

"He's still mad at me about the ward and that's not fair! Those stupid old ghosts and their stupid old ideas." Aura struggled with the words, clasping her hands around her knees. Forgotten, the immaculately coiffed blonde woman on the screen continued to talk about crafting supplies. "He's supposed to protect me! He said so, he said he'd be.. be my knight. Just like in the stories. What I want to know is how he's supposed to protect me when he's busy being somebody else's boyfriend. He's not even calling me Reiña anymore," she finished miserably. 

_ And that's Joni's fault. _

"Yes." Of that she was utterly and completely certain. Everything had been just fine until Joni had stuck her big fat ears into it. 

_ So you spend your time hoping Spyros backs you into another corner and... lectures... you some more, while Malcolm is probably wondering what game you're playing with treating him like something to bounce off of when the snake's not around and during all this you're mad at your roommate for dating the guy you're not interested in, who, by the way, you're going to marry and have some future nobles of Spain with. _

"I am not going to marry Diego!" That was a little loud. Aura lowered her voice then before hissing, "Ever. And I am certainly not going to have any noble anything with him either!" 

She felt Mercy reach for something and the recoil was as vicious as it was unexpected. The rebound shocked through both of them and Aura gagged. 

Then cold, prickling fury washed over her mind. 

_ Why are you locking me out? _

"S...sorry?" 

_ You have black holes in your memory. _ Kaleidoscope images flashed behind her eyes, stopping on the feel of an elevator under her feet, the indistinct blur that was her reflection in the dull steel walls.  _ We walked into the Club the other night...  but there's nothing there until after we were outside again. You were mad, something to do with Diego and... Bethany. I wasn't paying attention because you were being boring... _ She could feel Mercy trying to punch through, pull the rest out, and it hurt. She sucked in her breath at the spiking pain in her temples.  _ What have you done, Aura? _

Okay, she wasn't ready for this conversation. In some small corner she knew she'd kind of been hoping to never have it, either. 

"I promised," she whimpered, her hands trying to hold her brains in. "Diego doesn't want you listening in." 

_ He doesn't what?! _

It was the first time she'd ever heard Mercy as anything other than self-possessed.  _ Of all the ungrateful, human... drop it. Drop the wall right now. _ Another spike of pain rammed through her head. 

"No! I promised and I am not letting you in. Stop it... stop it, you're hurting me." Aura knew she was crying. It was like the worst migraine ever. "You're not the boss of me either, you know!" 

_ Somebody needs to be _ . The mind voice was grim.  _ How did you do it? _

"You showed me," she whispered, eyes squeezed closed. "You left me alone." The memory rose unbidden and they shared it together, the cold wind that day, the sway of the building underneath her crossed legs, the feeling of abandonment thirty floors into the sky with no way down until Mercy came back. "I just... you went away. Really far away and I couldn't reach you. So I just... learned to go away too. And build a wall behind me. You never even noticed," she finished smugly, if unwisely. 

A word she never, ever said ripped under the surface of thought like lightning.  _ That's dangerous, Aura. You can't do that. _

"You did." 

_ That's different. _

"No, it's not," she insisted. "It's not different at all. Diego trusts me and he doesn't trust you and you can't listen in. I promised and I keep my promises." She cautiously opened one eye, then the other. Double vision she could handle. 

Mercy was slow in replying. Too angry? Probably. As long as it didn't feel like half her brain was melting she was okay with the rest of it.  _ 'Going away' like that is dangerous. It's really, really dangerous...  for both of us. More than you know. _

"But you can do it and I can't? I don't believe you, Mercy." Aura dug her toes into the rough space between the couch cushions. "You just don't like that I figured out how to do it. You always have to know everything just so you can tell me I'm doing it wrong when you don't even care what I do." 

_ That's not true. _

"It is so true." 

_ Diego's not paying any attention to you, _ Mercy said abruptly, changing tacks.  _ He's broken his promise to you already, and with Joni of all people. Your roommate, so you can't possibly ignore what he's doing. He wants you to know, that's the only reason. Those Diestros made you expend personal energy making those wards, didn't they? And for what? So you could watch out for him. So you could be tied to them. So they could use you. _ She heard Mercy's voice, felt the otherness inside her crawling like worms under her skin, digging for the soft spots.  _ Diego doesn't like you, he doesn't have to. He says things so you'll feel sorry for him, that's all. _

Aura shook her head. That wasn't true. Was it? 

Mercy crept forward, that was the only description. Filled her somehow until Aura quivered on the brink of unknowing change, her hands clutching the forgotten blanket.  _ You don't have to keep your promise, not to him. He's not worth it. Drop the walls, Aura. _ Soft, so softly.  _ Let me all the way in again, let me see what you're hiding, and I swear I'll help you get back at Joni. _

Aura licked her lips. 

_ I won't say a single nasty thing about the snake either, _ Mercy cajoled.  _ I'll even help you get him, if you want. You like it when he sings to you, don't you? _

Whatever her reply would have been was lost as the overhead lights snapped on. She looked up into the sleepy, unhappy, green face of the girls' dorm RA. 

"Oops. Hi, Barrier. Hello?" 

"Five demerits." The gravelly voice wasn't impressed with chirpy friendliness. "Ten if you don't set a speed record back to your room." 

She did her best to comply, scrambling up and out. 

Back in bed, Aura pulled the pillow tight over her head. And with more than a touch of defiance, threw up a wall in her mind. Whatever answers she was going to think about, she was going to think them by herself, just see if she wasn't. 

So when the nightmare cycle started again, she was alone.


	23. Snow

The heat of the fire was a caress on her face. It felt amazingly good after the cold bite of the downhill air outside, the snap of motion followed inevitably by the unintended stops. She'd landed so many times in a snowbank off to the side of the baby bunny ski run that she should probably change her name to the Abominable Aura. Still, it had been a whole lot of fun and she certainly hadn't been the only one wobbling off course. There'd been a lot of laughter and good natured jeering as others, also lured by the temptations of ice-slicked gravity, had pulled themselves out of the drifts with her. Eventually though the cold had driven her inside to find comfort and a third wind in a mug of chocolate. 

The smell of resin rose around her as she sat on the corded wood, the babble of conversation yet another kind of warmth. She sipped cautiously; she'd already burned her tongue once. 

People she knew started to arrive - Sarah, Billi, Malcolm. The arm around her shoulders had felt nice, a little circle inside the bigger one made by her friends. Thorn had swaggered in, then Tamesis and then Diego and it started to get noisy, people bragging and counter-bragging, the shuffling of warm mugs between cold hands and the uniform red noses that made everyone look like Rudolph's younger cousin. Even Diego had unbent enough to be smiling, raising his voice to refute a particularly impossible claim that had carried across the room. 

Who started the snowball fight, she didn't know. But when the wet, slushy pack had hit the side of her neck she'd lost both chocolate and self composure in the time it took to shriek her surprise. She even caught a glimpse of Bethany's sharp features, for once open with astonishment, as she walked unknowingly up the stairs and right into a facewash. That was a point of smug pleasure. 

At one point she launched herself at Thorn, half throttling him from behind and trying to get her hands over his eyes so he couldn't throw. How she managed not to get stabbed with something was a question for another day; eventually she was dislodged, bruising her tailbone. Retaliation for the ambush was swift; she ran for Diego to escape. 

Her arms around his waist, trying to duck away from the pelting snow, it felt wonderful. He hadn't even questioned whether she'd deserved it either, just launched into the counter-offensive against what felt like the rest of the school, yelling something unintelligible. Under her hands, muscles jumped and moved as she cowered behind his back. Encouragement and laughter rose to the wide wooden beams.

Then when she shoved a handful of softly wet snow down the back of his jacket, a temptation of a target she just couldn't resist, he'd yelped but his eyes had sparkled. It had been so wonderful.

Until exhaustion and sore muscles had called a halt to the play and Bethany had crooked her finger. And he left without even a murmur, pulling his wet collar away from his throat, unbuttoning the damp jacket. Malcolm was talking to Jessiy now, Billi was gone and Sarah.

She sat back down on the precarious stack of wood and folded her arms over her knees, trying not to shiver.

The fire, at least, was still warm.


	24. Ward

_ Why are you doing this? You should have just told him and his ghosts to take a flying leap out the... _

"Mercy, just stop. We said we'd help and we are."

_ No, you said you'd help. Since I wasn't exactly consulted, I've got nothing to do with it. _

"Okay, fine, whatever. I'm helping, then." Aura shoved her hand down the side of the bed frame, wiggling on her stomach. It had to be here somewhere. "It's not like you could do anything, anyways."

The answering silence was as heavy as a thundercloud. Aura told herself to ignore it. They hadn't really talked in days and Aura had been scrupulously avoiding Joni's toaster just in case the temptation to mess with something proved too much. But when she'd started to dig out the wards around her bed, Mercy had wanted to know why. So far the conversation wasn't going well. In fact, it had started going not well right after she'd mentioned the ghosts and their next set of dumb demands.

Aura found herself guiltily wishing she could just lock Mercy out until she got over being mad. It was like living under siege. A siege with occasional airstrikes, that is.

Her fingers finally closed around the cool stone and with a sigh of relief, she pulled it up. She blew on it to get rid of the lint. That was the last of them and she squirmed around to sit cross legged on the bed, putting it with the others. Aura frowned at the colors, nibbling on the corner of her thumb.

The citrine would work, and the tiger's eye. The lapis might be a... problem. The blue quartz was definitely out. Maybe. Though if she broke them apart, that might be worse than just leaving them in this configuration? She passed a hand over them a few times, trying to decide.

_ I thought you didn't believe in this stuff. _

'I don't."

Mercy brushed up against the inside of her mind like a cat, all sheathed claws and dark fur. If Mercy had fur, that was.  _ If you don't believe in your mom's mumbo jumbo, why didn't you just tell them no habla espanol? They're just going to keep asking you for things until you end up tied to Diego like you're on a leash.  Excuse me, except for when he's on a date. _ Mercy let that sink in for a moment.  _ Why are you even bothering? _

"Just because I don't believe in it, doesn't mean it doesn't work." Aura seemed unaware of the contradiction, hunching her shoulders. The date comment had struck a little close to home. "Look, if you're not going to help, would you please be quiet? I'm not sure if I should break this ward."

_ Why, is there something wrong with it? _ There was reluctant curiosity in the voice.

In answer, Aura passed her left hand again over the tumble of stones on her bedspread. "They're tight. But they're mine and they're... open. I know Diego's about as self aware as a fencepost but with the things I built into the wards in his hair, he might react badly to having this set too." She closed her eyes and spread her fingers. "Can you feel it?"

It wasn't like opening another set of eyes or anything. It was more like standing still and being aware of the pressure of sunlight. Or maybe more like listening to the low level buzz on a radio between stations, with the almost-but-not-quite words in the static. Aura tilted her head, eyes still closed as a frown formed between her eyebrows. She'd had these wards set for awhile; they really were pretty solid.

_ Okay. So what? _

Aura sighed and opened her eyes to scowl at the mute stones. "I made these wards to make it easier for me to meditate. Diego doesn't need that. His dumb ghosts just want me to set up some sort of early warning system, in case of invasion."

_ Invasion? Tell them to dig a moat in the hallway. _

She giggled. "Mercy, wow. That's not very helpful. And besides, Scruffy wouldn't let them." Still, she spent a profitable few seconds imagining it. "And besides, that's not the kind of thing they're worried about."

_ They're not worried at all and I know it and you should know it. They're just making you jump through hoops to make sure you will. _ Mercy leaned against the wall that encapsulated the memory of Diego's face, the sound of his voice as he'd asked so quietly. He had to have known how she'd feel about it. Why else had he spent time to make sure she was smiling first?

Aura curled around the tight little knot of betrayal and strengthened the barricade against the subtle pressure. She felt satisfaction radiating from Mercy though, so something must have leaked through.   _ How about the next time they ask you to do something, you let me handle it? _

Aura shook her head, reinforcing the mental negation with a physical one. "Not a chance." She shoved down the thought that it would serve the ghosts right. "They're so full of themselves they're like to choke on it and you'd just make it worse. And I would kind of like Diego to keep talking to me." That came out a little more wistfully than she meant it so she hurried on. "Anyways, the last time you decided to set somebody straight, you nearly made Caitlin cry." She glanced guiltily at her roommate's empty bed.

_ Didn't. And besides, I was only telling the truth. You can't blame me for telling things straight up. _

"You were just mean. You didn't have to say any of that stuff about David," she replied. "It's really none of your business, you know."

_ Lots of stuff isn't my business. Doesn't mean I don't hear about it. _

"Well, that's why you are never going to talk to the gh... Diestros if I have anything to say about it. They're old and grumpy. You're just plain grumpy." Aura nibbled her lip, then decisively picked up the wards in one hand. Substitutions would be a bad idea. It would take them too long to re-sync. "I'd end up apologizing to Diego for the rest of my life."

_ Why do I get the feeling you like that idea? _

Perhaps thankfully, Joni chose that moment to walk in the door so Aura was spared from having to answer. She did however have the bad grace to look happy, a fact which Aura confirmed in the two seconds she looked at her roommate before busying herself stuffing the stones into the black velvet pouch, pulling the drawstrings tight with a yank.

"Hi, Joni!" she caroled, hopping off the bed. "Bye, Joni!"

"Um, bye? Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Joni was actually smiling, fingers playing with a teardrop necklace Aura hadn't seen before. The other girl took a bit of a breath. "I didn't see you at Mass this morning."

"Just out?" Aura told herself that she didn't really have to be extra specially honest in this case. Joni was probably just being polite and didn't  _ really  _ care. "And I'm sorry, but wow, Mass is boring. Capital B, bland. And it's so not required."

Joni paused, a look on her face that was something between uncomfortably stern and apologetic. "Well, that's true. But... you should still go, you know." Her pale fingers fell away from her throat, the little blue stone a wink of perfect color in the hollow. "Just... every now and again?"

"No, thank you!" Aura said fervently. Joni shot her a hesitant smile even as she turned towards her corner of the room, sliding her bookbag away from her thin shoulder. Aura took the opportunity to edge out the door behind her. Mass. Gosh. Not in a million years, not if she could help it. She'd grow old waiting for Father Montoya to finish reading all that Latin mojo.

Mercy waited until they were bouncing down the stairs to the main floor.  _ You know, we could just..... _

"No," Aura hissed. "Don't even go there."

_ Why not? It's her fault, remember. _

Aura paused, looking down. "I don't need to," she said, her voice remote and suddenly dreamlike. "Everyone... is going to get exactly what they want."

She hopped the last couple of steps then, her sneakers squeaking on the wax as the storm dark of her eyes shrank to sunlight blue. "I am not going to talk about it, Mercy," she muttered under her breath. "I am going to do what's right because I keep my promises, even to the grumpily departed. Diego's my friend; he can date the whole silly school if he wants. It doesn't make a lick of difference to me."

Mercy didn't let up all the way across the quad though, giving her sly ideas for how to deal with the problem of her interfering roommate. The idea with the toothpaste was inspired, even Aura had to admit. Still, it was with a feeling of guilty relief that she ran up the stairs to the boys' dorm, moving inside out of the damp weather. She firmly closed the door in her mind at the same time she closed the one behind her. She probably should have waited until the absolute last moment but if she had to listen to any more, she was going to scream. She smiled brightly at the boy in the little office.

"Is Diego home?" she quipped.

Maybe a little too brightly; the guy looked a little stunned. Aura surreptitiously checked her hands. No, not glowing this time. "Ah, sure thing. Want me to buzz him?"

"No, that's okay. He's expecting me," she replied. At least, she was pretty sure he was expecting her. She'd said she'd do this by the weekend and it was Sunday and being that it was after Mass, he ought to be available. Maybe that was why Joni had looked so happy. Maybe they'd been holding hands during the service. Maybe... she shouldn't think about that any more. "I'll just ... I'll just go poke my nose in. I won't be long, honest."

She wrinkled her nose as she padded her way down the hallway, counting doors, her sneakers not making any sound for once. The difference between the girls and boys dorms never failed to amaze her. Maybe next time the Rikti came back, they should paint a target on this place so the boys could get a new building too. She stopped and knocked softly on the slightly open door to Quad Eight.

"I told you I'd pay you later, Tony!" came the indeterminate yell. "Give me a break already!"

Aura pushed the door open, advancing into the room. "Hi, Brandon!" she said.

The blonde boy rolled over on the bed before flashing that smile at her. The one that said he'd noticed that she was a girl but the rest of it hadn't sunk in yet. She watched him work through it for a few seconds before her name came up in the slot window. "Well hey, Miss Aura. What are you up to today?"

She giggled and held her hand up to her forehead. "Oh, about this high," she replied. Brandon chuckled as if he'd never heard it before. On the other side of the room, Diego made a suspicious sound, clearing his throat.

"Hola, Reiña! Ah... you es here for... ?"

She looked. He was standing with one hand on the back of his neck, looking like she'd just interrupted him searching for something. He didn't have the mask on and his hair looked like he'd been running his hands through it recently. The school tie had gone missing somewhere and the collar was undone around his throat. He looked just like Diego, only a little messier. Behind him a couple of flags were pinned to the wall; one white with a blue diagonal stripe and one with red and gold bars. There was a picture of somebody kicking a soccer ball on a poster. 

She smiled, couldn't have stopped herself if she'd tried. She wanted to ask what he'd been looking for; her fingers itched to fix his hair, touch the plaited beads she knew were there but couldn't actually see, maybe even ask him what he'd done this morning. It was possible some of that was on her face; his gaze riveted on her mouth as she continued to smile, a flicker of a question passing through his eyes. 

She faltered, turning in confusion to Brandon, who just smiled back. She fastened on the safe face, babbling to it instead.

"I sure am! I told you I'd stop by. Is... is now a good time? I can come back if you want?" She shot a look out of the corner of her eye.

"No no, now is fine...ah, if Brandon no mind?"  Diego quirked his own mouth then, his eyes moving towards the other boy. 

Brandon shrugged easily enough. "I got nothing to mind, since it's Sunday and all. Also, if I leave the dorm right now, Tony might be waiting for me with a board in his hand, being that I was supposed to pay him back Friday." The football player shifted on the bed, sitting up all the way. She noticed that the corners of his bed were pulled as tight as a drum. "Now, just what is now a good time for exactly, Miss Aura?"

Aura blinked. Had he said that with just a little too much emphasis? She wasn't certain but he was still smiling in that open, friendly way so she decided she'd just misheard it. 

"Well, I'm going to ward the room from evil zombie influence," she pronounced grandly. She stared at Brandon unblinking for a few seconds but then couldn't resist; she cut a look to Diego just to see the expression. It was everything she could have hoped for and more. She swallowed a giggle. "Okay, gosh! Maybe not zombies, exactly. Besides, it's not like they can really help being what they are; it's awful bad mojo but it's not  _ their  _ fault. I'm just going to .. um, make it so that bad thoughts will have a hard time... growing here?"

She'd never tried to describe this before and she just barely managed to keep from flapping her hands. Wow, that sounded pretty stupid. True; but stupid.

Brandon was still grinning at her though so it couldn't have come out that badly. "That's handy. Do you think you could stop bad smells growing while you're at it?" He made a few eye motions toward Diego.

Diego growled but there was humor in it. "I keep say, is not me. I shower every morning after training, without fail." The brown haired boy advanced forward a few steps and Aura had to look up or risk looking rude. Or nervous. She opted to stand her ground and tried to plaster something brightly confident on her face. "Ess you need anything, Reiña? What should we do?" This close, she could see the flecks of darker color in his eyes.

Aura nibbled her lip. She hadn't exactly meant to just walk in her and start, well,  _ immediately _ but maybe it was a good idea not to think about it too much and just get it over with. Some small part of her wondered what she had been intending to do if not start right away but she squashed that pretty firmly.  For one thing, she hadn't realized Brandon would be here which kind of put a crimp in things. The little voice immediately tried to pipe up to ask another question but she hastily cut it off.

"Well, if you could maybe sit down? Just because I don't want to bump into you or anything." She smiled. After a moment she realised that Diego was again staring at her mouth with that quizzical look. She reached out without thinking to push him on the chest to get him moving in the right direction.

The palms of her hands didn't even get close. Her skin prickled as soon as she impacted the field; the strengthened, warded field flaring out in clear warning around his body. It felt like sunshine and sparked like cinnamon. She snatched her fingers back but he didn't appear to notice anything unusual. He stepped away to fold himself down neatly on the bed. "Ah," he said. "Like this?"    

She scowled. She couldn't tell if she relieved or annoyed that he really did appear to be about as aware as a fence post. He should have felt  _ something _ . Only, of course, he hadn't. Which was why she was doing this in the first place. Why did the stupid ghosts have to be right?

She swiveled to look at Brandon, who flopped back on his own bed with a grunt. "Safe as bugs in rugs, Miss Aura!"

She looked back and forth between them. Gosh, who knew they took direction so easily? She was suddenly tempted to ask them to do something really dumb, like stand on their heads just to see if they would. She hastily swallowed the idea. Really, not a good start to be messing with the serious vibes like that. But still, she wondered if they would? To keep herself from asking out of nervousness she fumbled with the wards tied onto her belt.

"You remember what I said about lines?" she asked shyly.

"Sí, Reiña," Diego replied in earnest.  "Of course.  I would no forget something like that."

"Well, the first thing to do is trace them." Aura peered around, the lumpy stones digging into her fingers. She frowned. This quad was not really like hers, the weird smell aside. "Actually... can you please move the furniture away from the walls? I could walk over stuff but then I might trip and break something important and besides, it's wet outside and I'd probably get mud on things."

The two boys looked around and then at each other. It was Brandon who smiled first though as he stood, sweeping her an exaggerated bow. "Miss Aura, I'm pleased to assist. Now, just how far away from the walls would you like?"

Aura was dumbfounded. It almost sounded like he was willing to pile everything in the center of the room! Maybe she really should have asked them to stand on their heads. She cleared her throat, nonplussed. "Just... just enough that I can squeeze by, that's all. Is that okay?"

"For you, anything. Come on, D. You heard the lady."

Diego stood then too, settling his shoulders. He began by moving the large black trunk away from the foot of his bed and farther into the common area before picking up the end of the frame. Brandon was obviously not to be outdone and scraped his along the floor with a big show of flexing his biceps and making an inordinate amount of noise. In contrast, Diego moved economically, wasting no energy. If the black locker or bedframe were heavy, she couldn't tell by looking at his face. 

"What do we do with Tony's stuff, D?" 

"Burn it?" came the soft reply. Brandon chuckled. With a shrug they threw the black and red shoes in the middle of the rumpled pile of bedclothes, tossing a few duffel bags on top and a pair of banged up skates. Diego held those by the laces as far away as possible. Aura guessed they were probably not too good to get close to. Brandon looked at the dresser drawer near one of the windows. With a shrug, he used one arm to scoop-push a bunch of trophies and photographs onto the bed as well, before shoving the shelving unit out of the way. 

Aura edged closer casually. Sure enough, there was a picture of Tony and Sam with goofy grins and autumn leaves in their hair. They looked happy.  She looked away, feeling unaccountably sad for a moment which made no sense. Sam was her friend; of  _ course _ she should be happy in pictures. Sam should be happy all the time. 

The fourth corner was dealt with just as easily and in short order the two boys had made a small space around the outside rectangle, certainly enough for a slim girl to slip through. Aura picked her way back to the door and took a deep breath. She pointed her finger at one, then the other. Diego was the one to grin and sit again on his relocated bed. Brandon followed a heartbeat later. If she hadn't known better, she might have thought he was annoyed at not being the first.

"Lines," she said in explanation, spilling the quiet wards into her left hand, "are the basis of all the things people make. I read that in a book once, but I think it's true." She turned to the right and started to walk heel to toe, her right hand brushing the wall to better focus on the connection she was drawing. "It feels true to me. Things that are built draw lines on the earth, sinking into the bones of things below. If you trace a line, it gets stronger. Any line. It remembers itself better, knows what it's supposed to do." Aura turned at the corner and continued. "Four lines drawn together enclose things. In order to close it tighter, we trace the line."

"Huh. What about, I don't know, a circle? No, a spiral. What about a spiral? That's not a line." Brandon sounded a little far away.

"Spirals are still lines," she replied softly. "But the ends don't connect. Spirals are for hiding things, confusing things. Mazes are often made of spirals, did you know that?" She wiggled past a bedpost and managed to get to the next corner without having to do more than shuffle her feet. "That why some old nursery rhymes have you turn widdershins three times when you sing them."

"Ah... widdershins?" asked Diego. At least she assumed it was Diego. It really was getting harder to hear things for the buzzing in her ears. The static was building awful fast.

"Yes. Walking around something the wrong way, to... un-do it. Sort of like walking backwards, to show what was supposed to be hiding, or open what was supposed to be closed. Walking widdershins around a church is awful bad mojo, for example. I think you got boils or came down with a case of the frogs if you did it." She took a breath, suppressing the urge to sneeze as she kicked up a dustbunny. "Nursery rhymes usually are about hiding things. Going the wrong way around can sometimes could help you find the truth." Her voice sounded far away to herself.

Brandon said something then, but she wasn't exactly sure what. She got to the third corner, ducking her head to avoid banging into the weird looking masks nailed up. The ringing in her ears felt like they did after dancing in the club for hours, where her hearing just gave up and cowered in her head. It was getting harder to put each foot down too. Wow, she thought. This room really doesn't like this. She gripped the warding stones tighter and made the last turn. 

The last piece of wall back to the door was the worst. It felt like she was struggling against an invisible headwind.  _ Down, go down, _ she thought fiercely.  _ Walls guard. Stone shields. Only good things here. _ She visualised it flowing out of her right hand like she was drawing the hex directly onto the wall, because that might help. Her mom had always said that picturing the energies moving could make them manifest more strongly. She imagined it crawling through and over, like fast growing thorns in the fairytale of the castle.  _ Down. Go all the way down. _

For a minute she didn't think she was going to make it. The last few steps, heel to toe in the cramped walk were the worst. But as she reached the door, the pressure just vanished like it hadn't existed and she nearly fell headfirst forward out of surprise. She might even squeaked.

"Aura? You ess okay?" Diego was leaning towards her, half looking like he was going to stand up in a second. She shook her head, then nodded her head and then just smiled for lack of anything better to do. The concern on his face actually felt kind of nice. He was worried, even though he didn't have to be. She told herself she wasn't smug about it.

"Gosh, yes. Wow. That was sort of freaky. This wasn't like an ancient Indian burial ground, was it?"

"Ah..." The European boy looked at the American one, who shook his head.

"No, Miss Aura, nobody buried around here until you count that cheese toast that Diode wasn't sharing the other day."

"D... Diode?"

"Sorry, Miss Aura. Io. The guy with the crazy mask collection. He used the hot plate without asking... I mean, the hotplate that he wouldn't be allowed to use if we actually had one... the other day and then wouldn't even hand out a wedge to his starving roommate. I don't mind telling you, that just wasn't right."

Aura giggled and skipped across the doorway. She felt the first line close behind her with a snap she could almost feel. Whatever had been resisting had either given up or been pulled into the walls.

"Okay. No dissenting dead people. I wonder what it was? Don't worry though, it'll go better now now I've closed myself." With that cryptic remark, she started the second line, moving briskly.

And it was true; there was no sensation of resistance this time, the line pulling her along almost. Her fingers skipped and bumped over the irregularities in the wall and she thought fiercely of everything being tied together, of safe havens and protective gardens. She had the thorn image already so she just built on it, imagining little flowers opening in the tangle, maybe some little birds. She wiggled around the obstacles and then skipped over the door again to make the third and final pass. This time she just closed her eyes; it was easier without having her vision messed up with trying to figure out both things at once - the things she was seeing instead of the things she was feeling. It almost felt like she wasn't even walking at all.

When she reached the door for the last time, she paused, checking the reinforced lines through her fingers on the paint. Well, it wasn't the worst one she'd ever seen. It wasn't as strong as she'd like but then again, the first line had barely gotten drawn at all. With a sigh of satisfaction, she stepped across the door and closed it. Not bad. She turned unerring to Diego and opened her eyes, smiling with satisfaction.

He looked a little strange, like somebody had spattered chalk on his face. She frowned and the chalk moved into a different configuration of splotches. She blinked and then blinked again.

"Aura? Ess perhaps you could tone down a little? Ess a little early in the morning for getting of tan."

His hand raised to shield his eyes. For a merciful moment she had no idea what he was talking about.

Then she blushed furiously and tried to stop the shifting light streaming from her skin.

Fifteen minutes and a babbled apology later, she watched with her arms crossed over her chest as Brandon shoved the last of the beds back into place, righting a little piece of needlepoint in a frame that had fallen over on his study desk. Diego shoved the black chest back into position, straightening. Both of them ignored the mess on Tony's bed.

"Okay, gosh. Almost done," she said. She told herself to just stare about chest high and it would be fine. She glowed when she did a lot of things, it wasn't anything to be embarrassed about. Diego'd certainly gotten a face full before. Still, looking up into his eyes was probably off the list of possible actions until she was at least seventeen. "Now, no answering, Boy Scout Brandon!" She marched forward into Diego's side of the quad and stared determinedly at his shoulder. "Which way is north?"

To her lasting disappointment, Diego pointed immediately in the right direction. "That way. Why you want to know?"

"Well, I just wanted to know if you knew," she grumped. Trying not to think too much, advice which she really should have kept in mind more firmly from the start, she put her knee on the bed and knelt on it to reach across. She shoved the blue stone in her hand down between the frame and the mattress, wedging it as best she could. In quick succession she placed the yellow and the gold, squirming around to each cardinal point, her fingers moving sure. 

Finally she took a deep breath and held it before facing the last direction; she leaned across the pillows and shoved her hand down to put the last ward. As soon as it was set, she wiggled off the bed like it was on fire and dusted her hands. She took a grateful breath because no matter what, breathing was pretty essential as a hobby.

"Okay! All done," she warbled. She spun on a heel and started towards the door.

"What? Ess that all?" It was the hint of suspicion in his voice that drew her up. No, really, it was. He really should know better than to doubt her; why, she knew exactly what she was doing! She turned around and shook a finger under his astonished nose.

"Gosh, would you stop that? Not everything is big explosions and flying chairs and I don't know, blaring trumpets at dawn. You guys are ... are snug as bugs in rugs. Snugger," she said, shooting a look at Brandon. The blonde just held up his hands. "No bad feelings here anymore, or at least, not truly horrible ones. Especially while you sleep."

"May I ask then, Adivina, how will we know if there ess something wrong?" Diego glanced around the room significantly. "All is much as before."

"You'll know," she said blithely. His eyes turned back to hers and narrowed. She relented. "Well, gosh. Fine, be that way. Mostly... well, you might find it hard to get mad in here now. Or stay mad. In fact, if you want to be mad you really will probably have to take it outside." She tried to think of anything else wooden posts might notice. "You might find you sing in here more. Or maybe even just sing, if you didn't before." Brandon's expression was disbelieving, then sudden thoughtful. "You might have.. sort of odd dreams," she reluctantly admitted after a moment. "Nice ones! Nice... odd dreams." She really hoped they wouldn't make her explain further.

Diego however was looking at her as if somewhere, some secretary behind his eyes was taking neat, handwritten notes. "And we ... I ess notice something wrong... if suddenly I was to stop singing? Or if one of my roommates was to... ah, be mad?"

She nodded, pleased he'd figured out her dumb explanation. "Gosh, yes! Exactly. Something is wrong if you don't feel good or feel safe here." She nibbled her lip and then impulsively took a step forward, lowering her voice. She firmly told herself to ignore the sunshine-and-cinnamon and told it to ignore her too. "If  _ you _ feel really weird, you need to tell me. If any of your dumb gh... I mean, if any of the Diestros notice that something... isn't right.. I mean, if you feel really _ strange _ , maybe like you're thinking like two people.... oh wow, okay, maybe you won't be able to tell if that happens at all." Aura bounced with frustration. "I mean, if you suddenly start thinking stuff you hadn't ever before... or you get a tummy ache, or your teeth hurt...."

She couldn't tell if the expression on his face was alarm or just confusion. She gave up and reached out to tug on the half-hidden cord dangling behind his ear. "This is a ward," she hissed under her breath. "I've just set another ward. It’s kind of like.. having two television sets on at the same time. Maybe you can watch both. Or maybe you just get a monster headache from trying."

"Ah!" he said. "Adivina, should I worry?" His head bent over hers as they spoke quietly.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "But if you do get a monster headache, you have to tell me, alright?"

He nodded, his expression serious. "Sí, Reiña. I will come to you right away, I promise." 

"Good."

She stood there for another moment, staring up. The darker flecks in his eyes; she couldn't tell if they were black or just really dark brown. Maybe an awfully dark green? She'd probably have to be outside to tell for sure.

Brandon coughed. Aura yelped and with undisguised haste untangled her fingers, absolutely sure her face was the color of sunrise.

"Gosh, look at the time! I need to get back; I promised Brianna we'd go... out. Shopping. For clothes. It was awful nice to see you again, Brandon!"

"Nice to see you too, Miss Aura. Thanks for the happy thoughts."

She babbled something and made her escape. And then got mad at herself for it. Why did she always seem to end up trying not to run after talking to Diego? It really didn't look good, no matter what interpretation he put on it. Maybe he would just think she was always in a hurry? That wouldn't be so bad.  Very Important Aura, always with things to do. No time to stop and play in the thorns. 

She sighed though without realising it, her shoulders slumping. Well, that was it. Well and truly it. There was absolutely no reason under the sun that she would ever have to do anything ever again for Mr. Diego de la Compostelaro, not for any reason, no how.

So why didn't that make her feel happy? She remembered the leaves in Sam's hair in the picture then. Aura firmed her chin and her step.

And smiled brilliantly at the boy in the little office on her way outside.


	25. In Coherency

"You tell me, Aura... I no know. Maybe one of the Diestros marry adivina know more." 

He shrugs, still looking off into the distance, his profile distracted with thought. A passing breeze ruffles the ends of his hair. 

Screened by the shrubs planted by some long ago architect with more vision than sense, the noise and commotion of the city splits here like a river around a stone. The traffic sounds further away than it really is; Aura's tiny kingdom of stunted green hidden in perfectly plain sight. No one ever comes here so it's become hers by default. In fact, if not for the graffiti on the big rock and the glimpses of glass and steel between the struggling, scrawny trunks of the trees, they could be somewhere else entirely. 

She's discovered she likes seeing him standing in it, filling the space with his quiet voice, the easy strides he takes as he paces. She read  _ Bridge to Terabithia _ once and while she'd never tell him, she imagines she crosses that imaginary border each time she hops over the concrete railing. Today he's wearing jeans, a brown hoodie with a logo she can't read running down his arm, the blades he carries absent although never far. It is the accent alone that proclaims him an irrevocable stranger, meant for so much more than this, but often she can forget in the listening. She's forgotten now. 

For a moment, she doesn't really register what he's said. Then she does and something in the middle of her chest turns cold. 

"The D...Diestros have married adivinas b...before? Really?" Why does she have to stutter when she's nervous? She wants it to be smooth, casual; it isn't anything important, oh no, just a small, throw away question. Other adivinas. Other Visions? He's never mentioned this before. 

Diego hesitates too, she can see it. Maybe he hadn't registered the words either until they were already out. Still, he glances at her and nods. 

"When? How?" She clamps her jaw on the ever so more important  _ why _ . 

"Ah, bueno, is have be several time, like I say. First one I know is Sol de España and Alaluzca.... ah, I no is sure how many times, exactly." There is evasion of a kind there, the words are too slow. She can feel him measuring the weight of each with his eyes on the ground. "There is ah... some uncertainty. Is have be intentional sometimes though. Diestros take adivina for bride for use, no for real reason to get marry." 

The sentence structure parses badly in english, chopped and inflexible. That suddenly scares her more than anything. It doesn't matter now that he's wearing American clothes, going to an American school, part of an American city. The cadence has taken on the rhythms of other centuries and other imperatives. 

She hates that her voice is small, a mouse in the woods. "Excuse me? Take? To use for what?" 

"To use Sight for they advantage." His voice is as steady as if they're talking about homework. She can hear the  _ of course _ that lingers in the air. He looks at her finally and the color of his face shifts. Embarrassment? Defiance? She can't tell. "Also...." He moves his mouth like he's going to say something but then the line of his lips compresses and he looks away. The jut of his cheekbone is as much a wall against further inquiry as the flushed color of his skin. Whatever it is, she doesn't want to know. 

She has to know. Without thinking she crosses the grass to shake his arm and the shock of the wards races up to her shoulders. Stronger now and so much more resentful of intrusion. 

"You have to tell me. Also, what?" She remembers out of nowhere that it was the Spanish that had the Inquisition. Is that it? Images of witches and stakes and bad things flash through her mind, impossible though it seems. Oh, no. She shakes him again harder to make him look at her, fingers digging in even as the muscles of his forearm tense. Oh, no. Please don't tell her the Diestros hunted those with Sight. Is that why he won't look at her? Were they used as examples?  _ Tortured _ ? "Diego! What did they do?" 

"They use... for breed. Try put Sight in blood. That is what I mean when I... ah... say uncertainty before." 

For a moment, she doesn't understand. Doesn't want to. 

There's shame in his eyes though. "Inheritance was.... different in España than here. Esstrong blood was more important, and is possible child born out of marriage can inherit anyway, or for daughter to inherit, and pass on. And in those days, change record was no so hard.  No for men of power.  So..." 

She drops his arm like it burns and steps back once, twice. Her arms cross over her slight chest, hugging herself. Three times. 

"...there was things done was no right." 

She's not twelve and she's not stupid. She knows then what he's saying. She is suddenly very aware of how tall he is with inches still to grow, the strength implicit in the arm she'd grabbed. He trains every day without fail, no matter the season or weather. Has trained every day, will continue to train. She couldn't even outrun him now, not with Mercy locked away, certainly not with the side of her sneaker half melted from sitting too close to the fire. 

She runs a dry tongue over her lower lip. Maybe... she heard it wrong? That's the only explanation. "You r...remember this? What they... did?" She can't say rape. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was slavery. Maybe neither, maybe both. From the shuttered look on his face, it wasn't pretty. The need to explain it away, to make excuses, dies. 

"Ones who do it will not talk about it with me. Share it. Is just... things I is tell. And I is pretty sure I is only tell that much because I meet Seer." He swallows then and she watches his throat, fascinated with the motion. There's a mute kind of panic in his brown eyes. "They would probably no have tell me any of that otherwise." 

She hadn't known the ghosts kept secrets but it makes a horrible kind of sense. There's a feeling of pressure around her windpipe, like fingers squeezing. The urge to run is overwhelming but her feet are rooted to the ground.  

"Lo siento, Aura." The apology is quiet enough that she has to strain to hear it. 

And suddenly she's furious. 

"Is that w...what's going to happen to me?" She wants to fly at him then, beat him with her fists, helpless and stupid as that is. How could he? It's mixed up in her head suddenly, him and  _ them _ , always together so that the fathers' sins, in their hundreds, in their thousands, are held in this single son; the hands that did the deeds, the callous attitude towards those long ago women. "They tell you so you'll k...know what you're supposed to do? So that you'll know that you're supposed to t...take me and  _ b...breed me _ and I will have sons for you not because you want to or I want to but b...because they're going to make  _ sure _ ?" 

The jigsaw completes itself, sheeting her mind to hysterical white. Yes.  Which came first; the chicken, the egg? Did she have the Vision because the ghosts saw her, wanted her gift for themselves,  _ triggered it _ ? Marriage then to Diego, children for Diego, continuation of the line with her blood to drive it. Or was it her Vision that started the cascade, made them see her, made them whisper into his ear what could be required if she failed to comply willingly? 

He doesn't move. So carefully and completely still that a part of her bubbles with laughter because she doesn't even know what she'd do if he did. If she ran, would he chase? If she attacked, would he defend? She can't breathe. 

"I am no like that," he says quietly. A vicious whisper. It's still cold, like the blade of a sword held to her cheek. He hasn't denied it. "I will no do the things they did. I... I no have Sight, no see Vision. I is just kid is okay with sword. No esspecial like you." 

She looks up and there's anguish there, uncertain fear of his own. How long has he known? Since the beginning? Has he stood here before, listening to her chatter like a firefly with this... thought in his mind? 

She doesn't want to know he's sorry. She doesn't want to see him at all so she can keep hating him. 

"I will no do thing like that to you, Aura." His voice cracks on the reassurance, pitching into a higher register. "Will no marry or breed like that." A giggle tries to rise to her lips, cold and scared because who talks like that? Breeding. That happens to animals. Not  _ make love _ or  _ have sex _ or even just  _ fuck  _ like everyone else says. "So if you see us marry, or see children... that is  _ no  _ what I did. It can't be." There's desperation there, denial, horror. It doesn't change anything. 

She pulls it from memory as her hands clench at her sides. Light drips but she doesn't notice. Anger sustains even this. "But you said... you told me duty. Before everything else, before  _ anything _ else. N...not to fail. Not to let them down. Not to die without the next Diestro to follow for your precious  _ family _ ." Helplessly she remembers his voice on the bridge, the long fall to the water, the color of sunlight and bronze on his skin. The resonant sympathy for his pain. "You say you w..won't. But how do you know? I promised to help. You  _ made _ me promise to help. What if that's what it takes not to f...fail?" 

Will you hurt me? Will you make me? The question crawls on the ground, weeping fear. Her fear. His? 

His eyes close, she doesn't know what he's trying not to see. "No! They can no force that, I will no  _ do _ that! I will no... that is cheat. That is  _ wrong _ . I have to succeed, but no do horrible thing to girl I..." He strangles on the words, she can see his lips moving. 

Shouldn't she be frightened? She is, she knows she is. But precious fury overlays it like the finest lace. All this time, smiling at her antics, letting her be a fool, willing to help her with anything, from spiders to lost ribbons. Her roommate's boyfriend, so perfect and gallant. All this time. 

"A girl. A boy, a boy, a girl," she recites, hoping it hurts. "Sometimes I See things and that makes me special to  _ them _ ." The acid of it all burns her tongue. "B...but not to you, not ever to you. Is that why they wanted to know about my mom? My grandmother? How far b...back it went?  _ How far forward it will go _ ?" She tries to get in enough air, gulping. "I only wanted to be your friend!" 

Oh, so much more than that; her roommate's boyfriend, the roommate who came to her asking what to do and she'd been frightened then too, scared of what she'd Seen, not ready to be the thing it promised, wanting it anyways, throwing Joni at it like a sacrifice. 

"You  _ is _ esspecial and I  _ do _ want to be your friend." This time he does take a step towards her, closing the distance and her hands rise. She blinks at the flare because the light is solid enough to have weight, squeezing between her fingers like pulp. He stops and one of his raises in answer, the sword calluses highlighted on his palm. "They is... they can't have everything! You is my friend. That is  _ mine _ . I made it mine. You are no they Seer." But the desperation hasn't changed. She doesn't know who he's trying to convince. 

"But I am theirs, aren't I?" Her voice is small but it carries. "They asked me to set wards, didn't they? On you. Then around you. And soon enough they'll ask for something else, you know they will. Then something else again. And then  _ again _ . Do you know what it takes to set a w...ward like I've done? B...binding me closer because they have to be strong to keep you safe? To keep me c...close for you." For all her efforts she's near crying. "And you don't ask me for anything at all." 

"Aura, Aura, is no true. I asked for... to walk with me. Remember, Reiña?" She can hear the rough cajoling in his voice, the entreaty in his eyes. "Just you and me. No mask, no them. Just like now. Aura." He takes the second step and she watches his hand tremble as it reaches out to touch her hair. 

"If I didn't have Sight, would you even  _ be _ here? Or would you j...just be screwing Bethany instead?" 

"Que?" The blank astonishment at the accusation is in the flare of his nostrils, in his head that jerks back. The hand he's stretched out tightens. 

She wants to wipe away the look of surprise. Does he really think she's stupid and can't understand what's said in the changerooms? The gossip that flies over her head every day? Does he have any idea how  _ often _ his name comes up? She enunciates carefully. 

"You know, the town pump?" 

The look is everything she could have hoped for and she tries to be satisfied with it. Because the answer is just that little bit too fast, his eyes just that little bit too wide. Stunned. Then finally angry back for the first time, temper flashing out of nowhere to answer hers. 

" _ Carajo _ , Aura. I am no esscrew anyone!" 

"That's not the way I heard it." She bares her teeth, daring him keep lying. 

"Que?! What is you hear?!" 

"I hear she likes playing mermaid with you! Was it f...fun? Filling time until you g...get bored of Joni and get tired of being nice to me? Because Bethany  _ puts out _ without needing a wedding ring?" 

"That is lie." The color in his face is high enough that it does look like she's slapped him. "That is no true!" 

He might be Joni's knight but he's Bethany's toy, everybody knows it. She tells herself the tightness around his eyes gives away that they did something, they had to have. "She says you did." Karmic retribution can come later, she can lie just as well as the next person. "Let me a...ask you something. Just this... little something." The nails are digging into her palms. If she gets mad enough, maybe she can run. "Am I supposed to wear white? Is that going to be r...required?" 

"W-wear... wear white?" 

"Wear white. Be a virgin. Grooms get to wear black to cover their sins." 

She's never heard him swear like this before but he does then, vicious and incomprehensible. "Wear what you want, as long as is in  _ Church _ !" The fury on his face is frightening in its intensity. "And Diestros no wear black, they wear red! Even La Hermana had red sash on her gown." 

"Red? Wow, that's a lot of screwing around." 

He gapes at her. Has he never looked at her before this?  Pretty Aura, tiny Aura. Doll-faced Aura. 

His stance has widened into something she almost recognises, the start of a pattern. "Bueno, considering how many have be wounded on wedding day in defense of _ right _ , red is mucho more practical! We would probably be bury in red, too, but is generally close casket. Even in case where there is body left to bury, is no always nice sight." He's glaring down from his vantage of height and she admires the straightness of his nose, the tight draw of skin as thin as parchment over the bones of his face. The white light in his eyes is hers though, an unwanted gift of lucency. "But I sure you is happy to know we die young, so if you Vision is right, you will no be torture very long. You will no see me be grandfather; Diestros no see they grandchildren. Many no see they  _ children _ ." 

A birthright not her own drips from her hands, a charred circle around her heart, melting into the grass at her feet. Incoherent light. 

Aura snaps her head up and her eyes are black as coals, dark as storms. 

"Grandfather." 

"No. Now you is lying too." He's incandescent with it as well, with 800 years of aristocracy, never thwarted. 

"Son of the the daughter. You'll live that long." And she laughs because in this instant of prophecy, she knows in the heartbeat before she'll forget. "You'll have me."


	26. Nightmare 2

The dark grass is cold, sucking heat from her skin as she kneels. 

She's in the clearing with the stones and the small fairy lights highlight the greenery that tries so hard to curve over her head. She's alone and that's desperately, terribly wrong. The wind that stirs the trees whispers that time is running out.  

She turns over another card, then another, blank and white and helpless. There are no answers still and she can't even remember what question she asked. How can she have forgotten? She turns yet another, her teeth chattering. 

"Dreams count," he says. 

She looks up and Brandon leans against a trunk, his arms folded. The side of his face is covered in blood. 

"No, they can't." 

"But they do." He's cradling a dagger and it's red, red to the hilt. A string of stones winds between his fingers, tying his hand to the pommel. "You'd better hurry up and look, Aura." 

So she does. The card in her hand shows a single image; a man, the throne, the eagle. She looks up and his hair has turned brown, the ragged line of it brushing  his jaw. Both eyes and face have narrowed.  

"I gave you what you wanted," says not-Brandon. One of the stones falls, silver-black to the ground. Pyrite for protection. "Just no how you wanted it." 

She's on her feet, and the look on his face is forbidding, frozen. No mercy, no patience. She's out of time to find the answer. She runs because of the pain and the anger, darkness made real and it's inside her. The branches lash at her face, hands before she breaks sobbing into the stormlit sanctuary. She races for the looming rock and the graffiti flashes under her hands as she climbs. No protection, no safety. Her hands are bleeding.

At the top, she crouches like a broken angel, guttering light against all the dark she's carrying.  She looks up in hopeless desperation.

The single star begins to fall. She watches it arc down even as her lips move with the wish. Starlight. Please, starbright.

She screams just before it touches her.

\-----------------------

She wakes with her teeth locked hard against the sound. The wall shifts in a sickeningly rush until she realises she's watching the shadows of the trees outside, nothing more sinister than that. She rubs her face with one hand and looks around. A faint sound which is probably Sam but could be Caitlin. The hum that's Joni's toaster. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less.

It's okay. She's fine. She's okay. It's just another stupid nightmare.

Aura sighs finally and snuggles back down, determinedly pulling the covers over her head. She yawns and one hand creeps under her pillow.

On the edge of the fall, she catches the edge of something... a throne. The eagle.

She sighs and is asleep.


	27. Skylight

_ Aura, don't. _

The disapproval doesn’t stop her or the rigidly controlled fear either. She has to learn. 

She takes a deep breath and springs into the air before she can change her mind. Before her bond-mate Mercy can change it for her. 

Power bursts under her skin then like a small sun, flashing through blood and bone in a heated wave. Her hands move in not quite random patterns, painting the shield around her body as energy not exactly her own obeys without complaint. 

This, she knows how to do.

For a moment she hovers above the embankment, a small feather of a girl. Her fingers clench into fists even as concealed fear trembles the air around her.  

Then what she can’t convert into motion flares into light and yet more light. Gazelle swift, comet bright, she arrows across the river.  

Automatic weapons turn on gimbals to track her approach, wide aperture bores staring like dark eyes. No audible alarms sound, unnecessary as internal screens light up deep in the control center. She doesn’t even know what installation this is other than the fact that it has to be important, built as it is in a single squat piece on the man-made island in the center. Barbed wire and forbidding concrete barriers meters thick, the ant-men on the walls with their dark uniforms and tiny guns - the thousand and one turrets.  

This is what she doesn’t know how to do.  

One gun, she's practiced with. One gun she can dodge now eight times out of ten. Against one gun she can win or at least not lose. 

Faster, low enough across the water that she could reach down to touch the gray surface if she wanted, reading the secret braille. The roiling energy she's called furrows her passage into hard white froth as the walls grow in her vision like a mountain. 

No warning. No call to desist. The guns swivel and fire. 

In the first desperate seconds she spins skyward, the water following in a plume as if to catch her in a fist. The tracers follow in excitement to catch her, pin her like a crucifix to the sky. Seventy years of technology meant for exactly, precisely this. 

At the point of the apex, she pivots on one foot in delicate mimicry of hesitation. Alignment below from three corners begins to converge. 

She falls, racing it down. 

Mercy howls in fear and elation as Aura sheds light like water, dancing in the air. For ten seconds she lives, burning energy as if it could never run out. Coherent light twisting into streamers of destruction, vaporising the whining metal shards. Shields created, created again, thrown up in a furious wish to survive.  

She’s screaming too, archived memory of a thousand flights through a hundred skies translating into this one pale body not meant to move the way she does. Adrenalin terror makes it all possible. Fifteen seconds. Corona bright, she struggles to learn. Twenty. 

On the twenty first, she dies. 

\------------------------------------- 

She blinks in the weak light of the afternoon, the clouds blocking out most of the sun. Her med badge winks mutely orange, upset no doubt at having to function at all. 

Aura sighs and squares her shoulders. She turns back again to the river, feeling hollow and thin under her heart, bird light and aching. 

_ Aura, don't. Don't do this. _

She hesitates but starts to walk. It will take a little while longer on foot and delay the inevitable. 

There is no choice. She has no choice. She has to learn this. They have to learn how to do this. 

She can’t count on anybody.  


	28. Machine

Life is a machine. 

All of the pieces within it have purpose, have function, designed as they are for continued motion of the whole. The systems that drive it forward contain redundancies saturated at every layer, but all strive for the completion just as they are programmed to do. Infinite complexity towards a goal that none know, save perhaps the One that built it in all its parts. 

Life is; for no other reason than it knows it must. 

She sits on her bed braiding wildflowers into a wreath. The blooms have wilted in the intervening hours but she doesn't mind, pressing the petals open with careful, pale fingers. Hair as fine as moonlight shades her face, casting both shadow and light in equal measure. Fingernails stained with the blood of the stems scores yet another line as she threads one into the next, heedless of the fact that the flowers are dead, that she is mutilating corpses. 

Because funerary scent still clings to them and she breathes it in for the memory. Crosslegged she sits and weaves secrets into the circle she builds in her lap. She pricks her thumb and has to suck the pain away. 

Yet when she places the crown on her head, it is with defiant joy. Across the room, another smiles. 

"That looks beautiful, Aura." 

Goddess of Spring, he told her and for that one moment, against everything else she knows, she believed. Still, the flowers are covered in death, coated in it, bowing their heads in service to the thing that she is. Just one tiny piece of the machine, that's all, moving at once towards and against a purpose she Saw once and not again. 

Because the light in her answering smile highlights the bruises under her eyes. Faint darkness that speaks silently of a system fragmenting under strain. 

The machine cares nothing for the individual gears that drive it, which is as it should be. The redundancies exist in their hundreds; in their thousands, in their millions for a reason.  Sidereal potential forever poised to become actuality at any failure of relentless purpose. Life will continue. 

As it must.


	29. The Pain You Give Me

There is something about doing what you're not supposed to that makes it just impossible to resist. 

Not that she would ever do anything amazingly bad, oh no. For one thing, it would take forever to clear off the karmic debt and she just doesn't feel like being  _ that _ good this week. Extra chores to make up for her shortcomings are never high on the list, no matter how necessary they sometimes become. 

But still, climbing up to the flat top of one of the university roofs is not this majorly bad thing. They're not supposed to be there, true, but it's not like anything is going to go nova or collapse into a black hole just because they did. Besides, it's  _ fun _ . She figures her karma can absorb at least that much badness without cracking in half. 

She hops along the edge, liking the little thrill of the nearby fall. She puts heel to toe in a mincing walk, her arms outstretched for balance and for imagination. She pretends she's walking a tightrope in a circus but at the end she changes her mind and pirouettes like a ballerina. She keeps her eyes down because while she likes the delicious feeling of risk, she doesn't really want to go over the edge. 

Leaning against a nearby vent, he smiles behind the argent mask. 

The negotiation of this friendship-not-friendship is perhaps the hardest thing she's ever done. There is no manual for something that hasn't happened yet; no list of instructions for how things are supposed to slot together to yield the final form. She's not even sure if she'd understand the language it would be written in, if it were given to her. 

So today they have been careful in their translations. They've lost sun-soaked hours already to the long afternoon; to the small explorations and tiny revelations, the inconsequential rule breaking they've indulged in. The scent of warm tar paper and asphalt surrounds them.  

They have scrupulously not touched and she is not sure if that is her rule today, or his, or maybe even  _ theirs _ . 

Because his covered face is as clear a warning as the step into space that she skirts. She should know better than to forget but she habitually does, just as she has forgotten now. She walks the ridge like a drunken child, chattering as if storm clouds have no place in her world. 

Because the truth is the fear cannot outweigh the fascination she has for him. And bird-bright, she moves under the masked eyes of the snake. 

"Wow. Don't they teach you anything in gh... Diestro school?" She stumbles over the word  _ ghost _ both because it's rude and because it's not precisely true, even if it is the way she thinks about them. 

"They teach mucho.  I have so much to learn - I is get so late esstart.  I is play catch-up too." His grin is wry and she blushes, crossing her arms over her chest. She really does need to learn to stop saying things the second they occur to her. Sure, she's stunted all over but did she have to admit it? Out loud? To him? She assays a few more tiny steps just to have something to do. 

"I bet they're really proud of you." The funny thing is, she is as well. For all the things she can't even name or maybe just for somehow managing to be himself in the face of everything else. She has no idea how to express it though. How do you tell somebody something like that without it sounding stupid? In answer though, he just shrugs. 

"They make me knight - that is esstart.  I have no do enough to really make proud, though."

"You survived," she shoots back without thinking about it. She really has to do something about that. 

"Esstep one," he replies back just as coolly. "That is no get very far." His voice chides and she makes a face. 

"Well, it's really difficult to do anything else if you can't manage at least _ that _ much," she says with exasperation. "At least, I think it would be an awfully serious disadvantage."

She can hear the grin in his voice even as she goes up on the ball of one foot in preparation for another fast turn. "No... is pretty esstrong disadvantage.  I no say was no important esstep, I just say is no get very far with just that.  I have many more esstep to make." 

She whips around, liking the feel of her hair lifting in a fan.  She spits out a few strands that make their way into her mouth. "What is the last one?" she asks impulsively. He makes a noise of inquiry, so she reiterates. "What's the last step?" 

It's true that she always reads the last page of the book just to make sure nothing terrible happens at the end. She doesn't like to cheer for the hero only to find out too late that something tragic spoils everything. The question is therefore important to her.

His answer is unexpected though. "Is depend what you mean by last." 

"There's more than one last?" She looks up then, fingers still outstretched like wings. 

"There is last esstep in series. And final esstep ever make." 

That gives her pause for a second. She's not sure but that seems against the unsaid rules of the afternoon. She dares to scowl at his chest. "I said last, not final." It's a very nice chest under the armor for all that she's never actually seen it. If she watches long enough, will he shrug again? She tries to stare covertly. 

The pause is longer than it needs to be and she wonders what is going on behind the mask. Perhaps he is consulting? Or simply choosing words to convey something she might not otherwise understand. "Last esstep is triumph, then. Glory for cause." 

That is unexpected too but in a different direction and she smiles. "So you start at just surviving and you end up ... in glory? Wow! That sounds an awful lot like my plan, you know." They've already talked of this; her not-so-secret dream to be famous, loved and adored by millions, queen of as much of the world as she can manage. She's grateful he's never dismissed it, amused as he must be by the grandiose scheme of it all.  

"Ah...si­, now you mention, is something of the same." She raises her eyes to watch his lips twitch. "Details is probably no very alike, though." So very bland, that understatement. 

"Well no, but we are very different people." The words are primmer than she means, pursed as a lemon. She sounds like a librarian. 

And he laughs, startlingly warm, filling the roof with the golden glow of it. "Ah, sí. Verdad." 

She smiles in return, hesitant but gaining radiance. "Vraiment," she chirps back. "For one thing, I don't think you have to worry about the getting rich part of my plan. But still, if you skip all the steps in the middle? We both want to end up in the same place." She likes that they have finally discovered at least this one thing in common, among the so many other things that they don't. 

"I think end in same place as you is good goal, Aura." 

The warmth doesn't change, still gold, and she shies at it like a horse confronted by a fence. "Um. Yes? Most definitely. That's a very worthy... goal." Something stirs and tries to paint a picture in her mind, the lines that will be on his face from age, the laugh that won't change for all the years ahead. "We should probably keep that in mind. Trade email notes and stay on t..track."  She hates the stutter, oh, with a passion. 

Because she can't help this either; she shoves everything into  _ future _ and  _ later _ and maybe even  _ never _ because to make it  _ now _ is too frightening a thought. It's easier to pretend that she will be on tour, busy with the famous, the great plan, with the Vision delayed unto infinity. 

"Is be easier for me. I is just keep track of world famous singer, after all." 

"Well, I'm not going to be world famous right away, you know. It'll take at least a little time." She looks away from the indulgent smile quirking under the mask, not sure that she likes the butterflies they give her. "I'll give you my cel phone number so you can find me, if the email doesn't work. I'll have one of those by then." She thinks of something then and smiles herself. "And a secret password!" 

"Secret password?" 

She starts thinking of words that would suit. Probably  _ besame _ . "That's right. So that I'll know it's you and not some crazy fan who got my phone number." 

"Ah, si­, claro. I is perfectly sane fan, no crazy fan." Is he teasing her? She looks back with suspicion. Silver metal, golden humor. 

"You can't be my fan, Diego. A fan is somebody who doesn't know anything about you but thinks you're great anyways, for the one thing they do know." 

"Oh, no?" He shrugs finally and she watches the fascinating motion translate through his shoulders. It really is a very distracting sight. "Is already too late for that now then, anyway.  I think I know more than that about you already, sí?" 

What can she say? She nods with a mouth suddenly a little dry. "S..sí." She wets her lips then remembers what Brandon said about signals. She hurries on. "So I'm sorry. You'll just have to be something else instead."

"Is ok.  I try do my best be brave in face of heartbreak of no be able to be you fan." His voice turns mournful, as if she has dealt him some sort of blow. 

"Well, gosh. Don't pretend it's the end of the world. You'll just... have to find something else to do in your spare time." She stops moving out of astonishment at the words, unaware that she has done so. She stands silhouetted white and unsure at the edge of the roof, more sylph than girl. 

"Is going be hard, I think." He nods and looks down, crossing his ankles after a moment. "I was very look forward be your fan." 

"Oh, you were so not. You're just making that up." 

"Why is I do that?  Now you is hurt my feelings again, call me liar.  Ay, you is harsh mistress, Reiña." The wounded tone matches the little that she can see of his face. His posture shifts again, changes subtly and she can't place the difference. She only knows it's there as he shakes his head in disappointment. 

"I wasn't... I didn't! I just... Diego! I didn't say you were  _ lying _ . I just said that you couldn't be my fan." She wants to be honest, wondering in confusion if maybe she did say something not quite right. "For reasons that maybe might have sounded like I was sort of saying you were telling an untruth? It's not the same and you know it. You're just trying to make me feel guilty. Which I am  _ not _ ." 

"Si­, claro, Reiña is never guilty. Only us poor little people wishing bask in your glory for moment." 

"Wh..what? Bask in my ... get your own glory!" She opens her mouth like a fish, and closes it again. What is going on? 

"Like I say, so very harsh.  Banish poor humble knight to shadows away from you great radiance... que dolor dulce me das!" She can only blink at the impassioned outcry but laughter is already pulling his mouth away from straightness. She narrows her eyes. He's definitely teasing her, she knows he is. But why?  

"I will great radiance you into a spot on the wall, wow! I  _ might _ be able to do that, you know." He tilts his head just like a quizzical dog which is somewhat infuriating, even as she tries to pull together the rest of her objection. What, does he think she can't? She does practice. Sometimes. "And I am not in the least harsh. Not even one little, itsy bitsy bit." 

"Is say love is pain, señorita. You deny me and deny, ay, but I am draw to you anyway."

For a second, the butterflies fragment into hot flowers. She has the incredibly stupid feeling that if she was close enough, she would see his eyes gone as gold as his voice. She shakes her head although she's not really sure what she's negating. 

"Gosh, now you are a moth? Moths end up with no wings most of the time. You  _ might _ want to reconsider your urgent need to flutter at lights." She winds that up with a triumphant flourish, flushed and proud at herself for thinking it up, just like that. That was a great simile! It's kind of too bad this isn't an English quiz because that might have earned her points. 

He doesn't even hesitate for a second. "More, for you are no little flame, but light of moon, great in the sky." His face moves into profile, one hand gesturing upwards. She watches it helplessly. "No burning, but high and aloof instead. So distant - but you humble knight have hope one day earn essmall token and be draw out of dark." His hand returns to his chest, closing as if on something precious. He smiles at her across the space that separates them. 

"...Wow. I am not high, or... or aloof and you are really not very humble at  _ all _ . I'll give you a small token. I'll drop an asteroid on your head, you just see if I don't." She stamps her foot then, half laughing. 

"Ah, see?  Harsh.  And argumentative." 

"I am not argumentative! Or harsh! I have been nothing but polite for whole minutes." 

"Then why is you just argue back?" As if she's going to get caught with that old thing. 

"I wasn't arguing. I was  _ correcting _ ." 

He nods. "Harsh," he repeats and his voice chides again, fondly. 

"Well, if you're going to call me a moon, you are obviously not feeling well." Maybe that's what's going on. He has a brain fever brought on by the heat. It's the only explanation. 

"You are right." For a moment - a brief, shining moment - she thinks she might have won. What, she doesn't know because she's not exactly sure when this turned into a contest except that somewhere along the way it did. The expression of his mouth gives nothing away however. "Moon is little thing in compare to you light, which though fickle, is rival only by glorious sunrise."

'What's fickle?" she asks cautiously. His head tilts to consider the question.

"Now you is give, now you is take. Change mood in beat of heart..."

She nibbles on her lower lip, thinking about that. She realises he's staring at her mouth so she stops. "Is that a bad thing? Because I'm not sure if I should be mad at you for calling me fickle or if I should like being called a sunrise."

He smiles at that. "I could consider great honor you take my compliment to heart for that is where in me it come from, so you is know depth I feel when you is turn you eyes of sapphire on me."

"Wow." There doesn't seem to be a lot else she can say to that. She struggles to frame something. "Okay, now you are really just teasing me. I think you lifted that from your last English essay."

The answering sigh is dramatic and the hand he's outstretched retracts to touch his heart. "Once again, my harsh mistress deny my attempt of express to her. Ay, dolor que se hace familiar!"

"I am not .. gosh, would just you stop that?" She stomps her foot again as if that will help. "Saying things I don't understand. I am not denying you anything!"

Oh, the answering grin is small but victorious. "I is remember you say that, mi Reiña." The gloating is as smooth as silk, as unruffled as velvet. "Oh,  _ sí _ ."

"Diego! You can't possibly take it like ... well, however you're taking it. You said I was denying you and I  _ wasn't _ . Or being argumentative. Exactly." When did she lose control? She feels like she's taken one spin too many, with the blood in her head and the moment of not being sure if the vertigo will prove too much.

"Mmm, take back what you say so soon?  Ay, I tilt at windmill, over and over..."

"You are not the guy on the burro! Stop pretending you are. Delusions of... of  _ grandeur _ is not the way to glory."

"Rocinante was nag, no burro. Esstill, I must armor myself from harsh rebuke of mistress who say even hopeless Don Quixote is more glory than me." The sigh is heartfelt enough to move mountains.

"I am not harshly.. and I am not your mistress!" That also did not come out right but she is past caring. She's giggling with both frustration and roused spirit.

"...Is must be soft of pale esskin and shine of brilliant crown of hair which keep me esstrong en this great pain. Ay, I essteal look upon you, even though you is deny ties to you humble knight." His grin is as broad as a river even as he straightens to bow, long fingers splayed across his chest.

She shakes a finger at him. "You are about as h..humble as ... as a fox. You're trying to trick me somehow."

"Mm, insult answer compliment, now you is call me trickster, like I is artist of con trying cheat you out of money.  How enchant I must be by you features of no compare that esstill I endure!"

"Would you please stop?" She's not sure that she wants him to though, not really; the fascinating, mercurial change of him. "I am not a moon, or a sunrise, or some incomparable thing! I'm just Aura."

"That is obvious untrue, because I gladly take mistreat in you hands for merely chance esstay and keep look at you."

She probably looks as bewildered as she feels. "Well, you can look at me all you like? I've been right in front of you for hours! And I am not mistreating you. Or your burro."

"I know.  I have look.  I will look." Still gold, the warmth in his voice but now it slides like fur across her skin. "I  _ like _ look. So deny my pain of you harsh, for is your just due. _ Reina _ ." The caress is as real to her as the touch of his hand on her hair and she shivers. That also seems against the rules but somewhere along the way maybe it changed. Maybe she failed to realise it with watching the honey laughter in his eyes.

"My just... due?" Her voice is smaller than she would like but there doesn't seem to be much she can do about it.

He nods as if there is no other way to answer. He stands easily, utterly poised and unshiftable. "Claro, Aura."

That word at least she knows. "No, it's really not very clear at all. Not by an awful big amount." She's as heartfelt about that as any other thing in her whole life.

He sighs then, not giving even an inch. "Again, I stand without approval of my lady. My best effort is come to nothing. Mas y mas dolor!"

She grasps after the only thing that seems sure. "But I  _ do _ approve of you! Very much!"

"Ah, en fin!" His smile is as indulgent as a favorite uncle, as if she has finally spoken the magic words to earn herself a candy. "I am feel like strength of ten men with you accept, mi Reiña." Again his hand moves to his heart and he gives her another sweeping bow but if there is mockery, she can't detect it.

"Wow. That's great, you have no idea." She dares to slump then with confused relief. "But really, I think the strength of just you is plenty." She means that too, as much as she has ever meant anything.

He chuckles as if he can tell. "I no know, is take almost more than I have to win over my sol y estrellas, mi cielo."

"What was that part?" That's it. He's been saying all these things that she hasn't understood and this time she's determined not to let him get away with it. "Sol y estraposa..."

"Sol y estrellas? My sun and esstars." His lips quirk then. "If you is also wish to know, I is also say... my darling."

She stares at him.

It's Diego's voice and his armor, the unruly line of his hair, the smudge on one shoulder from the climb. Yet she can all but see the plume in his hat, the ink stains on the hand that can wield both quill and sword with equal skill. Unknowingly her skin has turned to answering diamond, glittering in the sunshine - an air spirit, lured to ground by human sweetness and her own mortal curiosity.

She looks - and it's the silver mask that looks back.


	30. The Reading

I love my mom. I do. But she drives me  _ nuts _ . 

"Aura, please. I know you might think I don't notice these things, but I do." This from the woman who didn't notice when I wore the same sweater for three weeks running. It's all I can do not to roll my eyes. "Your meditations aren't something you can just... just ignore. You need to focus on what's truly important here."

I hate it when she flutters at me. I'm wedged in on the opposite side of the fold out card table which is all that will fit in our tiny kitchen so it's not even like I can pretend I'm engrossed in something else. Even worse, she keeps moving back and forth between her chair and the counter where the needle tea is steeping and while you'd think there'd be no room for it in here, she always seems to manage. She checks the pot for the millionth time and I guess the tea is still not the right color because she clinks the chipped porcelain lid down. 

"Wow, mom, would you just stop? I _ am _ focusing. I swear, I meditate every day. Well, every second day. Twice a week definitely, no matter what else is going on so really, things couldn't possibly be in any better alignment." She turns to look at me. The bells in her ears chime with the announcement.  "Could we  _ please _ get back to my question? I kind of have to be somewhere soon." 

As soon as it leaves my mouth, I could shoot myself. That probably isn't going to go over well. She sits in a swirl of caftan and the new smokey aromatherapy scent she's bathed herself in puffs out like a cloud. In the close confines of the trailerhome I really do have to breathe but wow, I sure wish I didn't. I suck air in through my mouth, hoping it will help. 

"...and don't be in such a hurry all the time, I've warned you about trying to rush. Always rush, rush, rush, where you go. Things have to flow, Aura, they have to unfold at their proper pace in order for understanding to occur, for the hidden mysteries in the mundane to be revealed." Her hands describe arabesques in the air, probably because it impresses her clients that she's Doing Something while she makes these pronouncements. Still, even for her, that was obscure. "Why, I don't even have to channel through my third eye to see how disturbed your colors are this morning. Don't you try and tell me that things are 'better'. Really, just what is that school  _ teaching _ you..."

She leans forward and for a second, I think she's going to touch me. Her fingers twitch anyways so I squish back in my chair just in case. The last thing I need is to have mom pronounce me jumbled beyond belief and I end up spending the next three hours in the re-done bedroom that serves as a combination therapy and spiritual treatment center getting some sort of emergency realignment. "You can't just ignore your exercises like this. I've told you over and over again about needing to keep your energy balances flowing smoothly, what with... your situation." 

And that's actually sort of funny. She still can't say  _ Mercy _ even after a year of me being stuck like this. She's managed to stop saying _ that horrible leech-demon that's feeding on your inner energies _ , which was what she'd settled on after about six months. Now she's just erased the whole messy problem from her world-view and stopped talking about it. And she doesn't even know a thing about Diego. 

Wow. Diego. I can feel my colors turning about sixteen shades of harmonious with knowing that he's waiting for me; we'll be together just as soon as I can get out of here. If I could squoosh back any further, I would, because while I love my mom, I sure don't want her channeling  _ that _ . 

I'm not supposed to have a boyfriend. I'm not apparently even supposed to notice that the human race comes in two different flavors, maybe three if you count Matt, and it's been like that since, well, ever. If you ask me, I think it's because my mom doesn't want to me to ever grow up. Whenever the subject of school comes up, I always have to dance around the parties and the dancing and the rest of it. I mean, I want my mom to know I'm having a good time and I'm fitting in, but there's only so much I can talk about homework and the nature walks in the quad. Of course, those have been getting sort of interesting lately... 

Anyways, no boys, no kissing, no dates, no anything. It's like my mom seems to think that if I wear makeup and go out with someone, the universe is going to implode. Diego might be an utter dragon about some stuff but wow, even he doesn't pretend that I'm still stuck at twelve and horse-crazy. Well, at least not anymore.   

"Yes mom, I know. I swear I meditate every other day at  _ least _ ." Okay, so fine. The meditating has mostly been an excuse to fantasize so that even when I do get around to straightening out my chakras, svadisthana is about the only one I can concentrate on. Also something I'm not confessing, no matter what. "Could we please get off this totally not-important subject? My inner alignment is just fine, I'm a rainbow of harmony even considering the dumb amount of homework I get and my grades are even pretty good." Well, good for me anyways, but who's she going to compare them to? My invisible siblings? 

She sighs at me and I get another waft of the current experiment in scent politics. It's all I can do not to sneeze. "Aura, please pay attention. If you're not in harmony with yourself, you can't..." 

"...I know, I know, balance the world's interactions at the base level, absorbing them and transmuting the energies into positive flows. I got it, mom, would you just trust me? My energies have been positively flowing just fine." If my energies were flowing any more positively, I'd be all melted like ice cream on the boardwalk which is where I hope to be very soon. "All that stuff is perfectly under control and if there's anything out of harmony in here right now, it's probably just the furnace acting up again."

She looks affronted, like I just called her professional skills into question and maybe I sort of did but my mom takes this stuff way too uber seriously sometimes. I push the tarot card on the black square of cloth across the table with my forefinger, nudging it closer. "Could we just focus on this, please? My question? That I came here to ask?"

Now, my mom doesn't do tarot readings usually. She mostly does stone therapy and healing energy sessions and holding meditation workshops on Saturday afternoons at the store. Still, just because she doesn't, doesn't mean she can't. Her deck is really old too and the pictures are very different, with lots of greens and browns and golds. The edges are dirty from years of handling.

She gives me a look that tells me we're not done with this topic yet and I'm still going to have to sit here for awhile, but finally she looks down. Progress at last. "Why this card?" She taps it, her finger covering the sun-staff that her version carries. "The Major Arcana are very strong, very sure of themselves, and Emperor is certainly not a man to trifle with. The reading is going to be charged unbearably."

I find myself nibbling my lip out of nervous habit. "Well, sure, I'm not a dumb b... I mean, I know, mom. But it kind of.. I mean, I just think it ought to be that one."

Along with every other thing I'm trying not to tell her, I don't really want to admit stuff about the dream or nightmare or whatever it is that I can't remember when I wake up. She'll freak out about my lack of control some more. And then I'll get the lecture on how to direct my unconscious lucidity and then I'll get some book or other to read, even though it's Saturday and I have other things... nearly six foot tall, brown haired things... to do.

But all I can remember is this one stupid card and it doesn't make any sense, not without context. The worst part is that I've tried to do readings for myself and they just come up gibberish. I mean, it's not, they're not, the tarot doesn't work that way. But whatever it's trying to tell me I just can't figure out. So my mom is, strangely enough, my only hope. Maybe she can tell me the story of what's happening so that maybe I can understand what's going on.

It occurs to me a couple of seconds later that maybe I shouldn't have said that either. My mom picks up on weirdest things. "Well, okay, it's not that big a deal but it really ought to be that card for the significator, I'm not sure why. It's like - a hunch. That came to me in a dream." Gosh, that was actually pretty honest, which is great. A good honest vibe is a great place to start. 

She doesn't say anything but finally, finally she picks up the rest of the deck and starts shuffling. My mom puts a lot of stock in dreams which maybe is what finally got through. The tea on the counter is probably the right vibration now but I'm not going to remind her, letting go of a breath I didn't know I was holding. The sharp look in her eyes softens almost immediately as her lips move, saying the words that clear her mind for receiving. It's kind of like a prayer to not guide badly. I usually skip that part myself. 

I really hate waking up in the middle of the night over and over, not knowing what my mind is trying to tell me. I'm tired of constantly needing to keep Mercy locked out, because otherwise my mind is filled with argument and hard to resist logic. Diego isn't trying to use me. I won't believe it, no matter what.  And even though I hate that I'm stacking up sins of omission like they're so many pancakes so me and Diego can be together, I'm not going to stop. 

I love my mom. I do. But there are some things she just really doesn't need to know.


	31. The Reading 2

Even in the heart of the city, with the walls rising hundreds of feet in the air to block both enemies and sunlight, the birds always seemed to know when it was time to wake up. Religiously in the never-quite-dark, first one, then two, then the chorus started to sing;  reassuring themselves perhaps that they had survived what passed for night and that they were all looking forward to the coming day.

Today it hadn't been her slightly unwelcome alarm clock. She'd been sitting awake for hours.

It was unease, she decided. Prickling, unhappy, frightened unease.

She lifted the mug to her lips but the tea was stone cold and bitter. She put it back down on the table to tighten the robe around her shoulders. She continued to stare out the window that from this angle only gave her a view of the distant wall. It was easy to imagine there was nothing else out there but the green glow, the radioactive warning that flickered and melted. Not for the first time she wondered helplessly if she just  _ concentrated _ , truly tried to focus on the mesmerising canvas, if she could See what to do next. The path of things to come, the shape of a new future written in alien script in the energy pulses, an undiscovered form of divination unique to living in Paragon.

False, tempting hope. She hadn't had the Sight for sixteen years. Looking would only give her a headache. 

She ran her hands over the patchy surface of the table, wanting to reassure herself suddenly of stability. She'd done everything she could think of, hadn't she? She'd left that long ago night, hadn't hesitated at the necessity; she'd gotten both of them out of there. Run all the way across the country with the baby a weight at her breast, crossing water over and over again to obscure the trail, casting wards behind her like flowers.

And it had worked; out of all expectation, it had worked. For fifteen years they'd been left utterly alone and she had guarded and loved and prayed to a God she didn't believe in anymore.

Nothing should have touched them here - only, something had.

It had crawled up to her daughter's window, utterly unexpected and somehow started things in motion, she was convinced of it now. Her thoughts turned in circles in the dim darkness like an unsettled dog. Was there something else she could have done, something she'd missed? Should she have insisted more, no matter the damage? The school had been a godsend then, a place to turn to for help. They'd seen this before, uncompleted bondings, human and alien learning to work together. It had been wrong but what could she have done? Should she have torn her daughter apart to remove a danger she couldn't even voice? 

So she had accepted, because pain came back three times like everything else and even once might have been enough to destroy the thing she needed to save. So her daughter lived doubled now, with assurances given by the Others with light in their eyes that this was normal, this was natural, her daughter blessed by this new oversoul when she knew, knew down to the depth of bones that Fate was still trying to find a way.

Her hands curled uselessly on the cheap vinyl.

She hadn't brought them here, carved them a new life away from every comfort, every support, to see it come apart. Just a few more years, that's all they needed. They just had to make it past the day of that last, terrible prediction. Maybe she should have enlisted the oversoul... but no.

It all came down to her changeling child with messy brown curls now turning with the seasons to winter snow, the spring hazel eyes so like her father's fading irresistibly to icicle blue. Each day her daughter moved farther and farther away into something fey, closer with each hour to the warning of her name. So slowly that she hadn't realised it for what it was. Hadn't, oddly enough, wanted to see.

It was the cards today that had opened her eyes; she hadn't understood them and even if that wasn't terribly uncommon, something in it had whispered of hidden changes. The cards had been so muddled as if even they didn't know what was to come. The Three of Swords, sharp blades piercing the central heart to denote sorrow and loss, overridden next by the Four of Wands, the joyous dancers? Certainly her daughter hadn't seemed any more at ease afterwards. And maybe it had been Aura's reaction - at once eager and disappointed and a little too much of both that had her sitting here, wondering on old questions and might-have-beens, should-have-dones.

The tarot often showed what the querent already knew; warned of dangers ahead if certain paths were followed. Were the cards contradictory because Aura had asked the wrong question in her heart? Were the paths divided because everything was still in flux?

She watched the sun rise behind the glowing walls, cupping a cold cup of tea between her hands.


	32. And All The Stars Above

Talos is one of her favorite places.

Not that it's all that special in the grand scheme of things. There are other places that have nicer beaches or at least beaches that are less expensive to get to, being that Talos is a two train trip. There are certainly places less full of camera-wielding tourists and the high prices on hot dogs that go with them. There are definitely less crowded places.

Still, for all of that, she decides she really does like it best because even with the mask, Diego smiles when he's by the ocean.

"You ever notice how pretty the water is, when it curls up at the bottoms of things?" Aura stands precariously at the top of a jumble of rock, staring down with her hands on her knees. So far all the little tidal pools they've found haven't had much in them, but she hasn't given up hope of a discovery. "It changes color and gets all frothy."

"Ah," he replies. He's been following quietly behind, letting her choose the direction. So far her meandering path has led them away from the open beach to the tumbled strip of land that rises upwards to the broken cliff-steps. At the moment he's balanced easily with one foot on separate rocks, his arms folded as if there is all the time in the world while he watches her explore. "Sí. Is second most pretty thing here."

She looks up through the curtain of her hair and smiles. The answering quirk of his lips is warm, the antique bronze of his hair barely ruffling in the breeze from the water. If the ghosts in the mask think anything at all, they don't manifest to chide her for it, for which she reminds herself to be properly grateful. She's decided, among other things, that they can listen in all they want as long as they don't actually do anything.

"Well, I think you're pretty too. Although I guess the proper word is handsome." She tries to remember, straightening. Against the backdrop of flicker-tipped water, she shimmers suddenly in soft counterpoint. Any emotion calls forth light, tiny diamonds on her skin, and she can't look at him and not feel. "Beau. Tu es beau," she says simply. "You make my heart ache." 

"Eh? I... do?"

She turns away though, shy as a deer to clamber over the next jut of stone. She's careful not to put a sneaker in any of the small crevices as she hops to the next rock.

"Of course you do. I look at you and it feels like .. well, like I'm going to break open with it." She glances back. "I really do like you."

He follows but doesn't answer; under the mask its hard to tell what his expression is. He takes a different line of attack than she does, going higher into the scree and the muscles of his legs bunch with the reach. She turns away, trying to ignore the prickle feeling.  The constant awareness of proximity is new and distracting and she's not exactly sure what to make of it.

She chews her lip instead, eyeing the next jump. She doesn't want to turn an ankle because while being carried out might be sort of romantic in the storybooks, it's probably much less exciting in real life. She leaps the gap though after that small hesitation, smiling as she lands with only a small wobble. She shoots him a triumphant look. "Your turn!" she carols.

It's as much of a dare as anything else and a small smile flashes across his face. He takes it and jumps down to her; smooth, silent. His knees flex on the landing but that's all. 

"Wow. So not fair," she grumbles. He makes everything look effortless. His eyes are dark in the shadow of metal as he looks down from the vantage of height, shrugging in answer.

"You ask for it," he points out dryly. 

"I did," she agrees and winds her arms around his neck because now she can; relishing the closeness, uncaring that their perch is somewhat precarious. "You are a very good jumper." She really doesn't like it when he's distant; physically, emotionally. "You ever wonder if maybe you're part mountain goat, from way back?"

He stills but there's no rejection, not this time. A moment later she feels his lips brush against her hair. She rests in happy quiet, soaking up the slight heat of his skin to hoard against the cool breeze from the water.

"I no do all that training for nothing, Aura," he finally replies. An arm curves around her waist slowly, pulling her in and she sighs. She puts her head in the hollow of his shoulder. There's no sin in this, she tells herself, nothing for God to forgive. It's okay that she loves the way he smells of sun and salt. She's allowed to hug her boyfriend, even if her boyfriend is currently wearing something that probably has all his dead relatives grading her hugging performance. 

"I love water," she says eventually, more to hear a voice than to have anything to say. "And the little fishies that you find by the pier. And the things that get stuck when the tide goes out. And you're right," she admits, "you probably don't have any mountain goat anywhere. If you can climb trees so well, I guess rocks aren't all that hard."

Recent memory evokes itself; fifteen feet in the air and deliciously frightened of falling, caged by the green gold leaves and the strength of his arms. His kisses with their own dazzling vertigo. She's suddenly too shy to ask if he's thinking about it too, unsure with the mask if asking him for another kiss now would be okay. She wants to though, even if she gets graded on it, and her arms tighten.

Perhaps he is. His lips grace her hair again and suddenly the world is much smaller, air a little more difficult to find. She curls a hand against his chest then, fighting the urge to stretch her fingers out to touch his collarbone, compulsively curious. She's suddenly too nervous to do more than stand still.

He takes a breath, she feels it against her cheek. "I es like you too," he says unexpectedly. "Aura." Her name is a caress in his mouth, something deeper and richer then previous. He shifts and she looks up.

The mask is gone, vanished away. Just Diego, just like that, and his eyes are still shadowed but warming fast. The difference is always startling.

His arms link in sudden tightness around her waist and for a heart-stopping moment she thinks he really is going to kiss her now that the Others are gone. She sways forward into the embrace with expectation.

"Niña, look up. What do you see?" He tilts his head and she follows his gaze. Far above in the blue, a single summer star winks down on them.

"Starlight, starbright... " she repeats immediately, the oldest rhyme she remembers. "First star I see tonight." She blinks at him then, feeling vaguely cheated. It's pretty enough but he's the one she wants to look at.

"And what is you wish?"

She doesn't even have to think. "To be with you, just like this." Color stains her cheeks at the honest admission but she doesn't take it back. It is, after all, true.

His hands settle tighter around her waist and his gaze sharpens. "Esstars can give that.  Esstars is have designs.  Like you project?  Esscorpion chase Hunter, Hunter chase his dog, dog is chase rabbit.  Is all mean something, and mean of pattern is show what can be."  There is more than warmth in his eyes, an odd yearning. "I learn how to do something, Aura." Just the way he says it makes her think of secrets.

"You did? What kind of something?"

"Some can make pattern of esstars what we want." He hesitates. "To make [i]our[/i] wish come true."

"Our wish?" The sound of the waves is far away, locked as she is in the circle of arms and the intensity of whatever he is trying to say. "You want to.. you want to be with me too?" She wonders then if it's some sort of code speak for getting to second base. Somehow she doesn't think so.

"I say over and over and esstill you no believe me. So I prove to you. Esstay with me, Adivina." The formality chases itself across his face. "I will draw esstars for us both. The great Pattern is possible to create in essmall, to put you and me in... always chase. You for me, I for you." The words are half stumbled and she's not sure exactly what he means. She pulls back, staring up in confusion. His grip instantly loosens but he doesn't let go.

"I don't understand. What pattern and what stars? Diego?"

"Is something I find out in... ah, last lessons. Is possible to bring you into Circle, into  _ my _ Circle, create... join of esstars. Make luck." His frustration is palpable, she can see him trying to find english words for whatever it is he's trying to say. "Esstars would see us as one," he says finally.

"Wow, that sounds sort of... nice." A stray breeze drifts hair across her mouth and his hand lifts to brush it away.

"More than nice. Is something I wish to do, if is something you want, too." His fingers link again around her waist, pulling her back so carefully that she knows he's waiting for her to resist. "Is no be easy, Aura. I is sure I have to convince Diestro for help with math, for draw proper shapes." His lips pull at the implied admission that this is beyond him. "But I find a way. If... if is really you wish."

She's still not sure what joining stars is. Make lucky? She decides it must be some sort of ghost magic and she thought he hated that stuff. Still, she finds herself remembering her angry, frightened words from so long ago - although  not so long as that, really. A month, maybe more? So much has changed and not changed at all. It's clear enough that this is yet another kind of binding, closer and tighter than any other. And isn't that what Mercy keeps telling her will happen? Warning her about?

Her teeth bite her lower lip, indenting the flesh. She reaches out to touch the half-hidden wards bound into his hair, the faintly barbaric talismans at once smooth and sharp to her fingertips. They react, not with warning to her, but with recognition. Isn't it.... isn't it already happening? Her wards should have become his, her field fading as his asserted. Instead they have balanced.

Her to him... but this time, him to her too. Some dark corner of her whispers. Isn't that exactly what she wants?

His gaze is only a little unsure, she can see the impassioned arguments locked behind his lips. She finds herself staring at his mouth.  

Isn't that exactly what she wants?

Starlight, starbright. Something teases at the edge of memory, a light far above, a sense of darkness. Her skin shivers in reaction but it's gone as fast as it came, even as her fist closes  over the wards. Yes. Oh, yes. She was afraid before. She won't be afraid now.

"I should very much like the stars. To see us together."


	33. The Reading 3

The chime rings as the door to the store closes behind another customer.

She brushes hands over her arms, smoothing the hair down yet again and the silver bangles at her wrists clink together. It's an oddly loud sound in the briefly empty shop.

The drag of the few hours of sleep can be felt in the scratch behind her eyes. All day she's felt it, like a change of pressure that means there's rain around the corner. Should she close the store early today, go home? The day has been full of people looking but not too much in the way of serious interest. There are advantages to being her own boss, she's found, including creating holidays.

She runs her fingers again over her arms, because the bleached down is once more trying to rise. Static? The itch of her eyes makes it a little difficult to focus.

She takes the rag from under the counter and the spray cleaner and starts the downtime ritual of cleaning all the glass cases. The smell of lemon and chemicals is familiar and soothing. There are a lot of flat panel displays for things that shouldn't be touched so she makes a project of the area nearest the front window.  She starts to buff the smudges out, wondering muzily at the positioning on a few of them.

The Emperor. The Three of Swords. The Four of Wands. The images from Aura's reading float up from the depths to rest across the surface of her mind. Obviously it's a puzzle that she's been trying to solve somewhere. A domineering man, sure and confident. Loss, heartbreak and sorrow. Joy and contentment, simple pleasures, the love of home. But why did Aura choose a Major card to underly the question? And why that one? It might have made sense if the Emperor had appeared in the spread, the instigator or the resolution. Instead, his influence seemed to show both paths.

For the first time, she regrets not asking what the question had been, even though that is not her way. Just what had her daughter wanted to know? 

The hair on arms rises so sharply as to be dagger fine, as if something dangerous has just brushed against her back. The sharp scent of citrus floods the air as her finger tightens convulsively on the spray trigger.

The wrong question? 

The bottle goes down on the case, the rag is discarded. She has a working deck in the little office and she moves with fumbling haste, digging it out of the drawer. Holding the silk wrapped bundle in both hands, she walks back to the main counter to lay out the square. She picks up the oversized cards and starts to shuffle. Her daughter's question wasn't, isn't hers. What does she want to know?

Everything.

"Aura," she asks out loud, firming her will.

Three cards; past, present, future. They flash down on the dark blot of cloth, spelling out their story.

Knight of Swords. Nine of Swords.

Magician, Reversed.

She finds herself clutching the edge of the counter without any memory of spilling the deck.

The unfolding, living confirmation of disaster stares right back at her.


	34. Interlude

The swirl and scuffle pushes them into a corner where a series of lockers ends. Break time between classes; eight minutes to get new books, new papers, think up excuses for undone homework. Two minutes to charge up a flight of stairs for a fast series of kisses.

"Today?" she asks, trying not to feel the butterflies in her stomach like airplanes. He burrows into the side of her neck and she giggles with the tickle. She doesn't understand and she doesn't care to. Once a decision is made, she just wants to feel it. His excitement burns into her.

"A miña Raíña, Major Circle is no fall from tree." His hands settle firmly on her hips and she takes the opportunity to plant some almost-on-target kisses of her own. "Ah, tomorrow? My last class is no so late as yours, I can go and prepare. In the little kingdom? You and I and all the esstars in the essky."

She melts with the romance of it all. Wow. How did Joni  _ stand _ it? She fists her hands in his hair and kisses him again on tiptoes.

"I'll wear something really nice." Maybe she can borrow something from Brianna.

"You is always look nice. You is always smell nice." He punctuates the words in a trail down her neck. She shivers into goosebumps. "I esspect that you..."

The words are lost in the bell. Already? She jerks her head up and yes, everybody is running for class. She squirms out from the corner, hauling her bookbag back over her shoulder. He kisses her hands then, swift as a hawk but the look in his eyes is oddly serious.

"Tomorrow, Aura?"

"Tomorrow," she promises. Tomorrow and always.


	35. Call Me

Her fingers tremble on the buttons, the phone number a glowing line of light on the ancient computer that serves as both cash register, solitaire partner and rolodex. Two rings and a half a third before the sound cuts off and a crisp voice answers. 

"St. Joseph School." 

"Good afternoon. This is Hope, Hope King. I'm Aura's mother." She whets her lips, clutching the receiver to her ear. "I'd like to speak to my daughter, please." 

"Please hold." The voice is not unkind but it's not terribly welcoming either. She listens to the music. The click back is a little startling. 

"I'm sorry, Ms. King, but your daughter is out of classes for the day. Would you like me to put you through to the dorms?" 

"Yes, please. It's urgent that I talk with her." 

"Is everything okay?" The voice does thaw a little at that, suddenly a little more human. 

"It's fine, everything's fine." It's not fine at all but how would she explain? "I just... need to talk to her for a minute. Can you put me through?" 

"Certainly, hold on a moment please." The voice pauses. "The transfer's a little cantankerous sometimes so if you get cut off, just dial 228 when you call back and MEG will put you right though." 

"Fine, thanks." 

There's a pause, then a series of clicks. Another voice answers, deeper like rocks. "Girls' Dorm."  

"Hi. I'm looking for Aura King." 

"The glowbug? I'm not sure... hang on." 

Glowbug? There's a clatter as whoever it is puts the phone down. A door opens somewhere and there's a rush of noise, chatter. Faintly she hears _anybody seen Aura?_ before the sound cuts off as the door likely swings closed again. She taps her fingers nervously on the counter. 

The growly voice comes back on the phone a few minutes later. "Sorry." Whoever it is doesn't sound all that sorry at all. "Aura's not in her dorm and Sam says Zorro picked her up so they're probably out for awhile. Want me to leave a message?" 

Zorro? Brown hair, brown eyes, a figure both clever and brave. She looks at the picture of The Knight, staring up at her from the tarot. Her fingers convulse on the twisted cord, threatening to cut off the sound. "Yes." She clears her throat and speaks up a little more firmly. "Yes, please. Tell Aura to call her mother just as soon as she gets back. Absolutely just as soon as she walks in the door." 

 

* * *

 

Aura hums, skipping up the stairs. The butterflies are still there, still the size of airplanes and it's starting to feel like she can fly on them without benefit of Mercy's help. Tomorrow, they'll do the Ritual and while she's hazy on the details, it sounds perfect. Just like in the fairytales, with a kiss and a promise. If Diego wants to do this, then that has to mean he's okay with the rest, right? Every day they're together, it just gets right-er. Any more right and she'd just float off. Which would be bad but still, it's a fun image.

"Hey, glowbug. Message for you." The green skinned girl pops her freckled face out of the little mini-office by the door. The scribbled piece of yellow paper has a suspicious looking stain on it. Aura tries not to touch that part.

"Oh. Thanks, Barrier!" She holds it by the corner and squints at it, trying to read as she bounces up the stairs to the second floor. Call her meringue? No, call her mom. Urgent.

Aura groans under her breath. What, another shift? This is so unfair!

Entering the dorm, she crumples the slip and tries to hit the trashcan from eight feet away. It's not even close and she has to go chase it under the battered little couch because littering is bad.

If she calls now, she'll get roped into working for sure. Petulantly she decides to wait; she'll call her mom in the morning before class.

 

* * *

  

"Mom, wow! Would you just ... I can't... slow down!"

Aura holds the receiver away from her head. The spate of words doesn't really let up so she gingerly puts it back to her ear.

"I _can't_ , not today! I have to meet Di...somebody. Wow, mom. It's just.. um, Di-ana, we were going to uh, study. And stuff. After school. For this _really_ big test." She listens, face scrunching. " _Right_ after school? Mom, I _can't_ , I promised, I can't possibly.... wow, okay, okay, don't have hysterics, gosh. No, I didn't say anything just then." 

The sigh is deep, heartfelt and silent. Her mom is making no sense at all, something about absolutely having to come over, do not pass Go, do not collect anything, not even a sweater. She interrupts eventually, deciding that compliance is the better part of valor. "Okay, okay, _fine_ , I'll stop by the trailer, all right? After school, no problem. Right, mom. Right after my last class, I swear. Yes, for sure. No, I won't forget. Bye. Yes, I will. No, I _promise_. Bye, already."

She hangs up and puts her head against the wall. A moment later she bangs it a few times.

"My mom. Drives me. _Nuts_."

 

* * *

 

 

She can't catch up to him. She has his schedule taped to the back of her eyeballs but there's a fight by the gym doors and by the time she gets past, he's already in class. She tries for the lunch period, darting through the cafeteria crowds but he's not there, she searches the room twice. Maybe he's already gone to the park? Maybe he skipped his last period.

She agonises for what feels like forever but there's nothing she can do. Her comm is broken from the last time she dropped it in the bathroom sink and she hasn't gotten around to confessing it won't work with all the water in its little inner workings. She decides she'll leave a message with MEG; the next time he checks into the comm system her big computer friend can let him know she's going to be a little late.


	36. Catalyst

"Mom, I'm here!" 

The door bangs behind her as she bounces into the living space. It's not actually a living room since her mom has it pretty much cleared of everything but oversized pillows. 

She's wearing a borrowed dress since she doesn't own anything nice enough of her own; pale green like new spring leaves, a sprinkling pattern of cut outs plays peek-a-boo over her shoulders. She just had time to change after class, scrambling to catch the bus to Kings and the trailer park. The next one is in twenty minutes going back the other way so she won't even be all that amazingly late if she can just get her mom to get to the point of whatever has her all freaked out. One of her clients must be on the cusp or something.

"Mom?" 

"Aura Sunshine King." 

Today her mom is wearing a head scarf that's a really pretty sea-green and blue, ocean colors against the waves of blonde hair. California tall and perfect, she's always kind of thought her mom resembled Aphrodite in that clam shell picture; albeit a goddess with a standing Friday appointment at the tanning salon in the mall three blocks over. The flowing cream linen caftan even sort of completes the image. 

Today however she looks a lot more like a pale, vengeful Kali, stalking from the kitchen area. 

"M... mom?" 

I called the school yesterday. Three  _ times _ ."  Aura opens her mouth but doesn't have a chance to say anything. "Somebody named 'Zorro' picked you up and you just absolutely couldn't be found."  

Oops.  

She struggles to control her expression, not sure exactly what's on her face but it can't be good. Calm, cool, collected. Her mom can't possibly know anything. 

"And you didn't call me back until this  _ morning _ ." 

She thinks frantically, telling herself not to step back. Just what is her mom trying to say? Bad enough that she has a boyfriend she's not technically allowed to have but it's not like she was out all night with him! Still, she'd better come up with something, fast. 

"Um. Zorro. Oh! Wow, sorry. Boy, I haven't heard that name in a while. It's just a silly nickname for Di..Diana, because she has this thing for um, masks." She plasters a bright smile on her face, willing her mom to buy it. "I told you, we've been studying awful hard for this test all week." 

She doesn't want to. She doesn't. But she has to take a step back then in an aborted movement of fright. Her mom's expression is terrible, all twisted up. She's never, ever seen her look that way before. 

"Don't.  _ Lie _ . To me." Her mom holds something up, a brown and gold rectangle. It's a tarot card and as soon as she sees the picture, her betraying breath stops. "Who is this?" 

Aura runs the tip of her tongue over her lips. "The Kn..Kn..Knight of Swords?" It doesn't work.  

"Who is this, Aura? What's his _ name? _ " 

Her hands are shaking so bad she has to wrap the fingers of one around the wrist of the other. "D..Diego." 

"Zorro?" 

"B..because he's sp..spanish. And has sw...swords." She has never hated the stutter more than she hates it now. She wants to be strong. She is strong. It's really none of her mom's business, absolutely none of her business. But she can't look at her mom's face, only stare mutely at the card. She firms her will though. "He's my n... novio." Let her mom chew on  _ that _ .   

Except it doesn't seem to matter. "Not anymore he's not. You're not going to see him. Ever again, Aura." 

"Mom, no!"  

"I've told you and I've told you and I've told you a thousand  _ times _ Aura, no boys, no dating, no  _ anything! _ " Her mother almost seems twice her size, frazzled and gold and blue. "You are going to march yourself right back to that school and you're going to tell this Zorro boy that you are  _ much _ too young, much too young for... for  _ anything _ , that it was all some silly... that you weren't thinking." The voice is implacable, but it's her mom, her mom isn't like this, not ever before has she spoken in that tone of voice. "And starting tomorrow, you're going to work in the store after school. After school, every day." The implication is until she dies. 

"No!" Her mom is being utterly unreasonable, utterly draconic about this whole thing.  "You can't do this to me! I am  _ not _ too young, I am not a baby and I haven't  _ been _ a baby in forever!" Not fair not fair not fair. "He loves me, I know he does!" She doesn't know that he does but she's too carried away to stop, stomping her foot to work up courage. "I didn't c..care what Joni said and I don't care what Mercy says and I am sure n... not going to c... care what  _ you _ say! I want him and he's  _ mine _ and I'm his and I am not going to march back to school and tell him anything like that at  _ all _ because we're going to hitch our stars together  _ today _ and be lucky forever!" She struggles to control the panic, the heart struck fear of loss. "I won't! I just _ won't _ and you can't make me." 

For a gut wrenching moment, she thinks her mom is actually going to hit her. She flinches, raising her own hands. 

Fingers sink into her shoulders, right to the bone and her head snaps back with the force of the shaking. Everything breaks apart into white, the hair spilling across her eyes. She's as stunned by the violence as anything else. Her mom has never touched her in anger before. 

"You  _ will! _ You silly fool! Don't you know what you're doing?  _ Never, ever see him again! _ " 

She cries out in shock, at the essential unfairness of the demand. Tell Diego what? Never to see, never to touch, never to kiss him again. She shakes her head with equal violence, negating the command with everything she is. It must be written on her face, the emphatic denial carved in the tension of her bones.  

Her mother makes a sound of something that could be frustration, could be fear. The grip on her shoulders become unbearable.   

For the first time, she sees what her own eyes must look like. The dark soundless rush fills her mom's face as blue eclipses to black. The expression is stark and terrible, bright as any ecstacy. 

"Then  _ See _ what's coming." 

There are pictures, a cascading gestalt. Vision not her own floods her eyes. 

_ Love. Joy like flowers and and yes, and yes. Diego with all the complications laid quiet. Stars, a darkness that is comfort. Children. An ocean, a sand castle, a flash of gold.  _

_ It whirls away like a tide. A maelstrom because there is sudden, aching absence, and still there is Diego, a church. There is cold and gray, a haze of rain. What is wrong? Something is horribly wrong. No no no. Diego should never cry, his face should never look like that.  _

_ Time plunges, a waterfall of pain. Twisted, angry, corrupt, closed. The mask dominates. She understands that he never takes it off. _ __

_ The world spins on, sweet words, a murmuring swell, a rise to power. Only power. Encompassing power, amassed to fill a void. Ill thoughts, ill words. Ill deeds, oh, so many ill deeds. There is darkness, without comfort. Escalation, a fight. War.  _

_ Death. Many many manymanymanyma _

Dimly she feels her mother still shaking her. She is rag doll limp. 

"Never see him again, Aura." Each word is a punctuation mark, scrambling through her brain. " _ Ever _ . You're the catalyst." 

But she has to tell him. She has to go to the Ritual and tell him what's coming, tell him to lose the mask somehow, some impossible way. It's all their fault, those ghosts, it's all always their fault with everything they want and all the arguing and the horrible sneaking lies they tell, she'll tell him and they'll figure it out, there has to be a way to stop it. She won't let him turn out like that, all... all blasted and destroyed and hateful and ugly. Not Diego, not her novio, oh no no no, she has to tell him right  _ now _ . 

It's still on her face, it has to be. Her mother makes a sound then, tight. Final. Says something she can't hear for the panic in her ears, she has to go. She pulls against the prisoning grip, trying to turn. 

"....sending you to your grandmother. _ Tonight _ ."


	37. Backstage Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a what if

White and red and polished reflections like water, her image is thrown back from the adoring mirrors as she crosses the room. The scent of the roses is strong enough to hang like smoke in the air. With a small sound of strings being cut, she drops into one of the padded chairs.

“I can’t do another one, I just can’t.” The complaint lacks force though, he’s learned to hear when she’s truly exhausted. Strained, certainly, but that’s all. “I can’t believe this place.  _ Two  _ encores? I am not a machine!” He closes the door to the dressing room without comment. The excited babble from the green room dims and with it some of the ocean roar from the front.

His nominal employer presses her hands to her eyes as if to emphasize the point but almost immediately they fall away. She straightens to peer at her closest echo. She’s smudged, rumpled, the stage makeup fraying at the edges.  Tiny curls turned pewter, dampened with sweat, cling to her temples. In the large extravagance of the dressing room she seems like an exclusive china doll.

“Oh, no.... Barbara, can you pin me? I’m coming apart again.” Her hands rise as if to fix the problem herself. “I can’t go out like this.”

“Certainly Miss King, just... sugar, no, let me, you can’t reach... Zu, get me the... no, the red one.” The stylist leaps into battle, wielding her instruments even as the rest of the menagerie springs into action. “You look great, Miss King, absolutely fantastic, you were stunning out there. Just... hold still a small sec... there. Honey, I’ll need a few more pins. On the left - no, in the... never mind, I’ll get it.” 

The elaborate coif has in fact held up fairly well, the interwoven braids in artfully casual loops still welded by magic alchemy to hidden supports. The fall of loose platinum running through the braids clings to face and hands though, causing a sigh of exasperation. He watches the ritual as he has many times before until the singer finally submits with a sigh of he suspects might be pleasure. Touched, re-touched, tucked and patted, she emerges from the flurry a few minutes later as immaculate as possible considering the last three hours. The blonde dresser dabs at a remaining smudge of mascara.

The door swings open, bringing a blast of sound almost like a trumpet.

“Darling, you were  _ wonderful _ ! Gorgeous! You took it to the next level and dropped them all like  _ flies _ ! I adore you, you magic thing!” 

He steps out of the way as the manager breezes in, quietly closing the door for a second time. There’s a burst of chatter on the radio and he presses the earpiece tighter. The manager continues to froth as he tries to listen what’s actually important. Out of the corner of his eye his charge kisses the air without rising, crowing in tired delight. There’s a small problem at the front station, male, brown hair. He queries status after a moment. Minor issue, somebody backstage without a proper pass.  Red radios that he's on the way. He hears Black call for Green to ride backup, the quick chatter of confirmation. He turns his attention back to the scene in front of him, his primary responsibility tonight.

“No lovey, we’re done here. Always leave them wanting more, first rule of show business.” The manager pats her hand. He wants to roll his eyes. She just looks happier. “Up for some autographs, sweetheart? Small line, I promise, and  _ snick! _ , we’ll be back at the hotel in absolutely no time flat and we can celebrate your triumphant success in style. The reviews will be through the roof! I’ve ordered champagne to fill a bathtub.” 

He can just imagine how that scene’s supposed to go but he keeps it from his face. She laughs, rising from the chair. 

“No champagne, Peter, I’m exhausted. I just want a bath with some nice clean water. If I had to go out there one more time.... “

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t. Can’t have those golden vocals in anything less than perfect scintillating shape. Up we go!” He tucks her hand under his arm. “Speaking of... water, my lovely? Or a mint?” 

“Oh yes, water please, I don’t.... if you wouldn’t mind... “ 

No sooner said than procured. This time he’s the one to open the door as the pair sweeps past, the diminutive diva sipping on a straw. 

The green room isn’t jam packed yet but it’s not empty either. The babble rises with congratulations and the swarm of butterflies forms, breaks apart, forms again. He makes eye contact with the other guard at the door to the hallway. Clear? The hand motion says acceptable. Through the hallway past the back station and door, to the east wing, down the stairs and into the greeting room off the front lobby. Easy enough, but the back door and loading dock are both potential problems. He murmurs to have Blue and Brown ready to move, gets confirmation.

He folds his arms to wait. 

\---

“I es tell you, this is a bad mistake you are making.”

“Look, I don’t know how you made it this far, but no pass means you don’t get to pass. I don’t care how you got here, you can get your autograph from Miss King with everybody else. I suggest you walk back to the lobby on your own feet.”

“I do not have patience for this. Where is Jack?”

The security doesn’t twitch, his face a stone wall at the mention of his boss. They’ve all heard this before, the appeal to the higher authority, signifying nothing. “Jack’s a busy man.”

He can hear the smile in the voice that isn’t a smile at all. “Is no so busy that he won’t tell you who I am. Get him and I no get you in trouble. I have come a long way and I no be esstalled by monkey with bad manners.”

“Your welcome just expired. Move, or I’m going to move you.” 

He finally gets an angle on the problem. Brown hair as described, tailored suit, decent height. Young, early twenties maybe, or good genetics. Just another fan, if a little better turned out than most. He shouldn’t have made it this far. Somebody dropped the ball or took a bribe - or both. He drifts closer a few steps as third backup. 

After a few seconds though, it occurs to him that that’s not just a tailored suit - it’s custom fitted. Which means the understated colour of the shirt stands for raw silk and he has the sudden feeling that the earring stud is not zirconia. Not by a long shot.

Before he can say anything, the young man steps back and he decides he really doesn’t like that smile. “Es okay, I solve this easy way.” But instead of violence, the man just expands his chest.

“Aura!” The summons comes down like a hammer. ” _ Aura!  _ A miña Raíña, me axude! Tus monos me estan  _ atacando! _ ”

The sudden silence on both sides of the door is deafening. The brown haired man continues to smile, flicking some imaginary lint from one sleeve. A cuff link dares to wink under the fluorescent. “Now you es in trouble,” he says softly. 

The door crashes open like a lightning strike and the platinum storm trembles in the frame. She looks around wildly. 

“Diego?  _ Diego! _ ” 

The next few seconds are bedlam. Miss King, the rising belle of stage and darling of the camera flashes by under his nose and all but launches herself into the arms of the young man who picks her up in a whirl. The rest of the entourage from the green room spills out in undeniable curiosity into the hallway and he automatically starts to herd them all back, unsure of what else to do.

“Diego, what are you  _ doing  _ here?” She punctuates each word with a kiss to his face. “You are supposed to be busy at that terrible meeting for  _ weeks  _ still.”

“Ah, was esstupid meeting. Lots of talk, none of much worth.” The man, Diego, grins as he tightens his arms around her waist. “And I es miss you.”

“I missed you too but that meeting was important. Diego, you shouldn’t have. You’re going to be in trouble with the cardinal! With all of them!”

There’s a crackle in his ear.  _ Who the hell is this guy? _ is the frustrated comment. He thumbs the comm.

The man shrugs. “They can wait. Es not as if there is nothing to do in Paris, especially for old men. How is conquest of world coming?”

_ No idea _ , he returns. _ Ask Black _ . He holds onto the rest with the ease of practice. Immaterial that he should have had this guy’s photo weeks ago, it’s spilt milk now.

“Wonderfully!” For a split second she sounds just like her manager, down to the fruity roll in the middle of the word. “Put me down, novio, did they feed you on the plane? I’ll take you to dinner. Oh, oh, I can’t, I have to do autographs... but after, yes?” She’s positively glowing with excitement, all pretense of exhaustion dropped. “Oh, but it is good to see you.”

The brown haired man laughs again and takes another possessive kiss. He averts his eyes but most don’t, ogling the scene. He sees a few phones in evidence but there’s not much he can do about that. At least he tells himself he can’t do much about it in a moment of spite. He’s not in charge of paparazzi control and it’s not like it’s a nude photo spread. Yet.

“I am esstarved,” the man eventually concedes. He puts her down delicately on her feet. “Es good thing you come and save me Aura, your monkeys es think very much of themselves. I es almost put a hole in one as object lesson in minor circle but thought, ah no, I should appeal to higher court.” 

“What?” She looks around, first at him and then at Green. “What monkeys... they are very good security!” 

“Ah, yes. So very good I come within very inches of your door before challenge.” Diego shakes his head in mock seriousness, but he at least can hear the steel in the quiet voice. “I shall be having conversation with your Jack about this.”

Oh yeah, that doesn’t sound good. He shares a glance with Red, who shrugs. 

“Oh, forget them. You should have come earlier for the performance! I was fantastic, everybody says so. Me, on the stage here - solo! Can you believe it?” 

Diego brushes a few strands of hair from her face. “And who says I was not here, mi cielo?”

She hits his chest but her hand stays to caress his lapel. “The reviews are going to be catastr... astronomic. Peter even says he bought a tub full of champagne to celebrate with.”

“Ah?” The young man, whoever he is, lifts his head as if scenting prey. The dark brown glance of his eyes scans the crowd but there is no apparent quarry. For a moment he almost feels sorry for the other man because he can almost hear the growl. “A whole bathtub, yes?” The young man looks down at the pale crown of her hair and the growl turns to a purr. “Perhaps we shall make use later, eh? I hope is jacuzzi.”

At that instant, even if he doesn’t have a job tomorrow, he decides he really likes this guy. 


End file.
